


let me down slow

by inkin_brushes



Series: girls!AU (VIXX) [1]
Category: VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/F, F/M, Gender or Sex Swap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2016-09-17
Packaged: 2018-08-15 13:48:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8058715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkin_brushes/pseuds/inkin_brushes
Summary: “Maybe he likes you,” Hakyeon said, waggling her eyebrows. 
Taekwoon’s stomach jolted, not altogether pleasantly. “You’re insane,” she said flatly.





	

**Author's Note:**

> LOOK I DID A THING. What happened was, I’m writing a mafia au which stalled at 30k because of plot troubles and then my brain was like AND NOW FOR SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT and we ended up with this, which is a (mostly) genderswitch high school au, which I wrote about half of in 48 hours. The gdoc for this was called “the au where taekwoon listens to halsey every morning while she waits for her hazelnut latte from starbucks” so that’s the alternative summary. **A few warnings** for self-negative thoughts and homophobic language. 
> 
> This AU is brought to you by the movie She’s All That and One Direction’s “Four” album. The title is brought to by [What's It Gonna Be?](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nJ4uBdmnKds) by Shura.

After the whistle for halftime blew, Taekwoon shoved the sweaty hair that had fallen out of her ponytail away from her face and trudged to the sidelines. They were a goal up, which would usually be a good thing, but Jefferson High’s team was good, and she’d wanted a buffer zone before they went into the second half. Now they were going to have to really work for it, when they were already tired and a couple of her teammates were starting to flag. 

She practically fell onto the bench before accepting the water bottle that Eunkwang passed to her. She drank half of it in one go and then got to work retying her hair back out of her face. She was still scraping bits back and grimacing at the way the sweat was starting to set on her forehead when Eunkwang leaned into her space and said in an undertone, “Did you see that Sanghyuk came again tonight?” 

Taekwoon’s head snapped up, faster than she’d have liked. Eunkwang reared back in surprise. The look on her face was almost comical but Taekwoon was too busy searching the area around the soccer field, looking for a familiar face. Jefferson High had actual bleachers around the soccer field, so it took a little time to find Sanghyuk. She had to half crane around behind herself before she spotted him, near the top row, sitting by himself, leaning forward and watching her. 

Their eyes almost met but Taekwoon’s gaze darted away before they could. She kept craning, trying to play it off, before she turned back around and stared at Eunkwang. “What’s he _doing_ here?” she hissed. 

“I expect he’s here to watch you,” Eunkwang said, half-smiling. “Isn’t that why he always comes to the games?” 

“Home games, sure,” Taekwoon said. “He’s never come to an away game. Jefferson High is an hour out of town.” 

Eunkwang just shrugged, a knowing, smug smile on her face, one she could only have learned from Hakyeon. Taekwoon wanted to hit her. She stared out at the pitch, ignoring the eyes she could now feel against her back. The sun was starting to set now, the sky a mess of orange and pink and red, like the paintings she’d seen last time Hakyeon dragged her to the art museum. They’d have to play the second half with the lamps on, making the aftermath of the early fall sunshine even warmer. She could feel the sweat prickling on her back already. 

As they got called back onto the pitch, she glanced up at the stands again, her eyes going straight to Sanghyuk like they’d been pulled there. He was still watching her; he saw her looking and raised one arm above his head, waving it expansively at her. She whirled on her heel and stalked out to the pitch. She wasn’t going to let him put her off. 

Sanghyuk had first come to one of her soccer games a month earlier, along with his friend, Wonshik. It had been a home game, but even so it was unusual that people came along to the female soccer games. Nobody really cared about the team, even though they were damn good, and had almost gotten to state finals last year. Taekwoon got it; nobody cared about female sports, they cared about male sports, even if they were terrible. Which was often. The basketball team, to be fair, was good, and even though he was only a sophomore, Sanghyuk was their rising star. But Taekwoon, as captain of the girl’s soccer team, didn’t enjoy the same level of popularity. Not that she’d want it. 

She still didn’t know why Sanghyuk had come to that first game. He came to all the games, now, sitting near the back, his eyes pressing into Taekwoon. Wonshik came along with some frequency, though he seemed more interested in the actual game than boring holes into the back of Taekwoon’s skull. Sometimes Taekwoon got the feeling that Sanghyuk didn’t actually know what was happening in the game in general, because his attention was so focused on her. She didn’t know if he was trying to put her off, trying to throw her off her game. If so, it wasn’t working. She refused to let some pretty boy like him get to her like that. 

When the final whistle blew, they’d won five-two, and Taekwoon had scored three of those goals. She felt dead on her feet, her shirt sticking to her back with sweat. The team was almost too exhausted to even celebrate, slumped on the bench trying to recover before they had to load everything back in the bus and make the journey back to their own school. She sat next to them, running through her mind what she could say to them on the bus to congratulate and encourage them. It was the part of being captain that she hated the most. She was good at shouting instructions in training, good at directing them during a game, but it took a lot of preparation to stand at the front of the bus and talk to them in a calm, steady voice. She lost the threat of what she was saying a lot, and always sat down afterwards feeling foolish. Eunkwang promised that she was fine, but Eunkwang would say that. 

She tilted her head back and emptied what was left in her water bottle over her head. It splashed down her face and onto her shirt. She blinked it out of her eyes and smoothed her hair back. It was cold, at least, and somewhat refreshing. 

“Hey,” said a voice next to her. 

She turned to it instinctively and then sat there, blinking up at Sanghyuk. He stood with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans, the pose suspiciously showing his arms to their best in his short-sleeved t-shirt. He was smiling at her like they were old friends, but prior to this, he’d never spoken a word to her, even in the month he’d been stalking her at all her games. 

She stared at him in silence for so long that eventually his shoulders hunched a little. “Uh,” he said. “I’m Sanghyuk. We go to the same school?” 

“I know who you are,” she said. Her voice was husky; it always was, after shouting herself hoarse during a game. 

“Oh,” he said. He rubbed at the back of his neck, looking unsure. “Um. That was a good game, you guys really deserved that win.” 

She knew that. “Thanks,” she said, just to be polite. 

“You’re really good.” 

She knew that too. “I know,” she said. He blinked at her. 

They were beginning to pack up now, the coaches yelling at them to start moving. She stood without a word and moved to pick up the cooler that had held all the now-empty water bottles. Rather than taking it for the dismissal that it was, Sanghyuk followed after her. “Here,” he said, “let me take that.” 

She blocked him and picked it up herself, glaring at him over her shoulder. She could handle a mostly empty cooler by herself. He didn’t look surprised by that though; he just ducked down and picked up a water bottle from the floor. He tossed it into the trash as he trotted after her out of the game area. 

“How long have you been playing soccer?” he asked brightly. He was apparently impervious to the looks her teammates were shooting them. Taekwoon could feel her ears turning red. She didn’t mind the attention when she was playing, but she hated that feeling off the pitch. 

“A while,” she said shortly. 

“Do you play any other sports?” 

“Yes.” 

There was a pause. She put the cooler with the rest of the stuff to be packed onto the bus and then ran her fingers through the ends of her ponytail. She couldn’t believe she was having this conversation with Han Sanghyuk when she was sweaty and tired and probably stunk to high heaven. 

“Which ones?” he asked, when he caught her eye. 

“Softball,” she said. She swam during the summer too, to keep up her body conditioning. 

“I would have thought basketball,” he said brightly. “Since you’re so tall.” 

She stiffened. She took a couple of breaths through her nose but she couldn’t help the angry, bitter note in her voice when she spoke. “I’m sorry, but why are you talking to me? Do you need something from me?” 

He laughed. She thought it sounded a little uncomfortable. “Do I need something from you to want to talk to you?” 

She raised an eyebrow at him but before she could answer, her coach leaned her head out of the bus and yelled at them. “Jung, stop flirting and get your ass on this bus.” 

Taekwoon felt her face flush. She turned her back on Sanghyuk and stalked away from him to the bus entrance. “Hey—” he said from behind her, but she ignored him and climbed into the bus, throwing herself into a seat at the front. Out the window to her left she could still see him in the periphery of her vision, so she took care to stare straight ahead, and just watched as the rest of the team filed onto the bus and took their seats, their chatter filling the empty space. 

She didn’t look out of the window until the bus was pulling out of the parking lot. Sanghyuk was leaning against a battered Honda Civic, his phone to his ear, gesturing widely. Taekwoon would deny it if anyone noticed, but she watched him until they turned the corner and he disappeared from sight. 

——

Hakyeon practically crashed into the seat next to Taekwoon in AP Lit the next day. Her bag hit the floor with a worrying thunk that she ignored in favour of leaning across the desk and throwing an arm dramatically across Taekwoon’s table. “Why didn’t you text me about last night?” she cried. 

Taekwoon, who had gone home after the game, showered, done her math homework, and then gone to bed embarrassingly early, stared at her. “What was I supposed to have texted you about?” 

“Sanghyuk,” Hakyeon hissed. 

Taekwoon scowled. “Who told you about that?” 

“Who do you think? Eunkwang spilled the whole thing in first period. He really spoke to you?” 

“He wanted to know which other sports I play,” Taekwoon said. “Presumably so he can stalk me to my softball games during the spring.” 

Hakyeon snorted. She didn’t come to many of Taekwoon’s games, but she’d been at the second one Sanghyuk had come to, and had noticed him before Taekwoon. His presence fascinated her rather more than it did Taekwoon, who saw it more as a bother, especially after last night. 

“Maybe he likes you,” Hakyeon said, waggling her eyebrows. 

Taekwoon’s stomach jolted, not altogether pleasantly. “You’re insane,” she said flatly. 

“Is it really that hard to believe?”

“You’ve seen me, haven’t you?” Taekwoon asked, gesturing to her hair she kept tied back, her flat chest that she hid under shapeless t-shirts, her sinewy legs always covered with soccer shorts. She wasn’t necessarily ashamed of her body, although there were certainly parts she would change. She just didn’t see the need to try to make it into something it wasn’t. She wasn’t like Hakyeon, with boobs and hips, a body that looked good in almost anything. She suspected that Hakyeon didn’t even need to try, and the fact that she did try, extremely hard, was just icing on the cake. 

“I don’t know why you do that,” Hakyeon said, in that exasperated voice she seemed to reserve for this conversation, which they’d had at least once a week since they’d become friends sitting together in freshman biology. Hakyeon hadn’t been able to dissect the frog, while Taekwoon had been excited about it; Taekwoon rather thought that explained a lot about why she needed to do the hand waving thing. “You’re not ugly, Taekwoon.” 

“I’m not pretty either,” said Taekwoon. “Don’t,” she added, when Hakyeon’s mouth dropped open eagerly. “Don’t bother telling me that I am. I’m not. It’s fine. But basically, Han Sanghyuk doesn’t like me. There’s nothing else to it.” 

Hakyeon huffed under her breath. The bell rang outside and one last student raced into the classroom and took their seat. Their teacher glared at him but didn’t say anything in favour of starting class. Taekwoon listened to the discussion of _Wuthering Heights_ , flicking through her copy idly. It was the second book they’d read so far this semester and she hoped the rest of the books were better because it was going to be a damned long year otherwise. 

A folded up piece of paper landed on her desk. She glanced at Hakyeon who stared resolutely at the front of the room. Taekwoon unfolded the note and read it under the desk. Hakyeon’s tiny writing read, _I think he liiiiiiikes you_.

When the teacher’s back was turned, Taekwoon reached across the aisle and smacked Hakyeon over the back of the head. To her credit, Hakyeon didn’t even yelp. She must have been expecting it. That was annoying. 

——

Wonshik scowled, balling up his jeans and stuffing them into his locker. Around them, the locker room was full of the sounds of people changing for practise, male laughter and the rustle of clothing. “I don’t get it, man,” Wonshik said. “You have terrible taste in girls.” 

Sanghyuk smirked. He straddled the bench and leaned so he could fasten up his sneakers. “What makes you say that?” 

“Don’t think I haven’t forgotten you saying that Hongbin wasn’t that pretty,” Wonshik said. He tugged on his basketball shorts and then stabbed a finger in Sanghyuk’s direction. “And now you’re chasing after the titless wonder.” 

Sanghyuk rolled his eyes. “Don’t call her that.” 

“Fine,” said Wonshik, after a moment. “But my point still stands.” 

“It’s not like that.” Sanghyuk climbed to his feet and shrugged, half to loosen out his shoulders before practise. “I’m not chasing after her. I like watching her play. She’s ferocious when she plays, I think she could break her nose and keep going. I’ve never seen anything like that.” 

“Yeah, because that sounds literally insane,” Wonshik said. “If you break your nose, you’re supposed to go to hospital, not keeping running around a soccer pitch.” 

Sanghyuk sighed, his hair ruffling. “That’s not— it’s not that. I just want to know her better.” 

Wonshik squinted at him. “But you want to kiss her, too?” 

“Well, yeah.” 

“Then my point _still_ stands.” He sat down to do up his own shoes. “And I still don’t get it.” 

“There’s more to girls than just being pretty, Wonshik.” 

“Hey,” said Wonshik grumpily. “Don’t say it like that. I know that. And I also know that up until a month ago, you were _all_ about the pretty girls, so don’t try to act all mature about it now.” 

Sanghyuk shrugged again. “Maybe pretty just doesn’t do it for me now. Maybe I’m interested in other stuff.” 

“You sound like an old man. _What_ other stuff? Beyond her soccer playing, it would be like dating a trapped bear. That girl has claws, man.” 

“It’s a challenge.” Sanghyuk nudged Wonshik with his hip. “Speaking of challenges, how’s it going with photography girl?” 

Wonshik shoved him away. “Fuck off,” he said. Sanghyuk laughed as he sauntered out of the locker room to practise, flipping Wonshik the bird behind his back as he went. 

—-

Taekwoon was not a morning person. She was almost proud of how not a morning person she was. She’d had four pre-set alarms for the past five years and she was considering adding more. Things had improved since she’d gotten a car and could swing by Starbucks on her way into school each morning. Coffee before she got started with her day helped more than words could express. 

Things had also improved since she’d stopped picking Hakyeon up each morning, after Hakyeon had gotten her own car for her birthday. She loved Hakyeon, heaven help her, but Hakyeon was at her chirpiest in the morning and more than once Taekwoon had seriously considered stabbing Hakyeon with one of her own hair clips. 

But coffee or no, Taekwoon was still at her grumpiest whenever she walked into school before eight each morning, so finding Sanghyuk leaning against her locker was exactly the opposite of what she wanted. 

She gestured at him violently with her half-drunk latte. “Move,” she growled. 

Sanghyuk moved; not far enough for her liking, but he moved. “Good morning to you, too,” he said, sounding amused. 

“Fuck off,” Taekwoon said. She wrenched open her locker and stared at the mess of books and papers inside. Every day she planned on cleaning it out, and every day she failed to do it. There was even an empty coffee cup from a few days before sitting on the upper shelf. She needed to dig her AP chemistry textbook out of the disaster area. 

“You didn’t decorate,” Sanghyuk said. 

Taekwoon had forgotten he was still standing there, or more, she’d hoped he’d lost interest and left. “What?” 

“Your locker, you don’t decorate it.” 

“Was I supposed to?” 

“Girls do,” Sanghyuk said, and then tacked on a quick, “sometimes.” 

“Because clearly,” Taekwoon said, “I’m your typical girl.” She motioned to her body, like she’d done with Hakyeon, at her worn sweatpants and the tank top that she could have honestly foregone a bra with. She expected a smirk, or a comment that would sting for the rest of the day even though she told herself that she didn’t care. She didn’t expect the way Sanghyuk’s eyes looked her up and down, not quite checking her out, but not quite _not_ doing that either. Then he seemed to catch himself, and he glanced up at her face to see if she’d noticed. When he realised that she had, his cheeks went pink. 

“Sorry,” he said. “I— I put my foot in it there, didn’t I?” 

Taekwoon was too unnerved by the way he’d looked at her body to formulate a response. She turned back to her locker, hiding her face, trying to not think about how the look in his eyes could so easily be misconstrued as desire. She would have to keep telling herself over and over that it wasn’t to stop her traitorous brain insisting it was. It was, after all, an impossibility. She’d made it to almost eighteen without a single boy finding her attractive, there was nothing to suggest anything had changed. 

He put a hand against the locker next to hers, his fingers curved around the edge. “You like coffee?” 

Taekwoon titled her face to the ceiling and prayed for patience. It was too damn early for this. “No,” she said. “I’m drinking it because I actually hate it and don’t want anyone to realise.” 

He looked baffled for a moment and then caught onto the sarcasm. He smartly decided to ignore it. “It’s just, I know this great coffee shop, off Wade Avenue? It’s one of those small, family run type of places. It’s kind of out of the way so I don’t think many people notice it, but I went there with Wonshik this one time and they do these amazing blueberry muffins and their coffee tastes like actually coffee, which like, obviously you like Starbucks since you’re drinking it, but this stuff is way better and—”

Taekwoon stepped back and slammed her locker door shut. He snatched his hand away just in time. She was disappointed. “I don’t care,” she told him. 

Before he could say any other inane thing, she turned and walked down the hallway to the bathroom, where he couldn’t follow her. She wanted to lock herself in a cubicle and do some of the deep breathing exercises her therapist had taught her, but Jaehwan was in the bathroom, putting on mascara, her mouth hanging open. She looked up when the door opened and then pointed at Taekwoon with her mascara wand. 

“Are you here to take me up on my offer of a free makeover?” she asked. 

“I hope you poke your fucking eye out,” Taekwoon growled. 

“Ouch,” Jaehwan said, turning back to the mirror. “Who pissed in your cereal this morning?” 

“Nobody pissed in my cereal,” Taekwoon said. “I am being _harrassed_.” 

“By who?” Jaehwan asked, sounding way more interested in the answer than she needed to be. 

“Han Sanghyuk.”

“What’s he doing?” 

“He keeps coming to my games, and last time he talked to me, and this morning he was at my locker and kept chattering on.” 

Jaehwan finished up applying one last layer of mascara and closed up the tube. Even that motion seemed to radiate skepticism. She had both eyebrows raised when she turned to look at Taekwoon. “So essentially your complaints are that he’s coming to your games and talking to you? I don’t know how to tell you this, Taekwoon, but there are no laws against either of those things. In fact, I would have thought you’d be happy that someone is coming to your games.” 

“He doesn’t watch the game, he just watches me.” 

“Ah,” Jaehwan said, rooting around in her purse with her eyes on Taekwoon. “He’s got a crush on you.” 

Taekwoon felt her eye twitch. “Why does everyone keep _saying_ that?” 

“Probably because it’s true?” Jaehwan pulled a tube of lipgloss out of her bag and held it up triumphantly. She turned back to the mirror so she could begin to apply it, like she even needed to. “Boys aren’t exactly subtle about these things.” 

“How would you know?” Taekwoon asked grumpily. “You’re almost exclusively into girls.” 

“The important word there is almost,” Jaehwan said, waving the tube of lipgloss in Taekwoon’s vague direction. “But you don’t have to be boringly heterosexual to understand how teenage boys work.” 

Taekwoon watched her work in silence for a few moments. The bell would be ringing soon and she was still almost all the way across campus from where her classroom was. But she lingered and eventually said, “He doesn’t like me. Not like that.” 

Jaehwan sighed. “How do you know that?” 

“I just know,” Taekwoon said. 

——

Wonshik was staring again. He knew that he shouldn’t be, but he honestly couldn’t help it. He tried his best, which had to count for something, and some days he even managed to avoid it entirely, but on other days, days like this, he just couldn’t stop. 

Hongbin sighed. “Stop that,” she said, out of the corner of her mouth so that their teacher couldn’t hear. 

“Sorry,” whispered Wonshik. He turned his gaze to the front of the classroom, where their teacher was writing out a long, seemingly convoluted answer to an equation on the board. Wonshik couldn’t follow any of it. He was genuinely close to failing Algebra II because he couldn’t stop staring at the girl he sat next to. He was going to have to ask his parents for a tutor. 

Hongbin shifted in her seat; she was tucking her hair behind her ear, her small hand lingering by her temple as she jotted down what their teacher was saying with the other one. Her lobes were pierced twice. Today she wore small black studs in the lower piercing, and diamante stars above. Yesterday there’d been bright blue plastic studs in both piercings, which had matched her nail polish. Wonshik was thinking of setting up a database, to see if the piercings correlated to Hongbin’s moods any. 

She turned to him suddenly. She looked utterly exasperated. “What is it?” she asked in an undertone. “Do I have something on my face _today_?” 

“No,” said Wonshik. The first time they’d met, in this very classroom two months earlier, Wonshik had been struck helpless at the very first glance. He’d stared at her so hard that eventually she’d demanded to know if she had something stuck to her face. “I just like your earrings today.” 

“Oh,” said Hongbin. She touched her ear. “I— thank you.” 

“You’re welcome,” Wonshik said. “I’m sorry about the staring. I’m trying my best not to.” 

She rolled her eyes. “Try harder.” 

Wonshik did. He turned his face to the front and managed to keep his attention there until the bell rang for the end of the period. He even managed to take down a few notes, though they made very little sense to him. He couldn’t fail this class; he’d get thrown off the basketball team if that happened. 

Sixth period was basketball, and really he needed to haul ass as soon as the bell went, but recently he’d been lingering, taking his time packing up. Hongbin’s next class was just down the hall, Wonshik had seen her walking to it, so she didn’t rush the way the rest of their math class did. Wonshik matched her. They didn’t always talk — in fact, they rarely ever talked. Hongbin didn’t seem to know what to do with him, and he’d already used up his smart-words-in-front-of-Hongbin quota for the day so anything else he said was going to be stupid and maybe even offensive. He kept his mouth shut and just enjoyed being near her. 

“Hey,” said Hongbin softly. She pulled her backpack over her shoulders and fiddled with the straps. “Can I— I have a project for my photography class, I was— I thought maybe you’d like to help me with it?” 

Truth be told, Wonshik would have agreed to help Hongbin bury a dead body, so helping with a photography assignment was a no brainer. “Sure! Yeah, anything you need.” He should have dialled down the enthusiasm but it felt like an impossibility. “What is it, the project?” 

“It’s just nature photography,” she said. “I was going to go to the lake to take some photos before all the leaves fall off the trees. I just have a lot of equipment, with my camera and the tripod, and everything. I kind of needed someone to help me carry it. I thought you might be good for it since you play basketball.” She grinned at him, a little cheekily. It wasn’t the first time she’d smiled at him but he still felt stunned. “You have those arms, after all.” 

Wonshik spluttered for a moment, then resolved to kill himself later, when it was all done. “Um! Okay, sure, I can definitely help with that. Just let me know when and where we should meet and I’ll be there.” 

“Great,” said Hongbin. She pulled her phone out of her pocket. It was an iPhone that had a black case on it. Wonshik caught sight of the text on the back: I LIKE THE WAY IT SOUNDS WHEN YOU SHUT UP. “Give me your number so I can text you about my plans.” 

Wonshik recited his number, trying to keep his voice steady. She typed it in, weaving her way through the desks to the door, dodging the next group of students who were coming in. “Okay, I’ve texted you,” she said, just outside the door. “You should have my number too. I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

He nodded dumbly and watched as she walked away. She disappeared into her classroom just as the bell rang overhead. Wonshik had to sprint through the hallways and back stairways to avoid getting caught, and burst into the basketball locker room when it was mostly empty. Sanghyuk was still in there, though, taking his shirt off. 

“Sanghyuk!” Wonshik yelled. “She gave me her number!”

Sanghyuk tried to turn to look at him and somehow got stuck in the sleeve of his shirt. Wonshik had to help tug him out and then Sanghyuk stood before him, shirtless and his hair a fluffy mess. “Who did what?” he asked. 

“Hongbin gave me her number. She wants me to help her with a thing for her photography class.” 

“Photography girl strikes again,” Sanghyuk muttered, not nearly enthused enough by this news. 

“She _asked_ me! She doesn’t hate me, she wants me to spend time with her.” He flopped onto his back on a nearby bench. “This is wonderful.” 

“Yeah, pal, great for you,” Sanghyuk said. He sounded a little sarcastic but that was okay. He’d already texted Wonshik about the near encounter his fingers had had with Taekwoon’s locker that morning, so Wonshik understood. “What does she need your help with?” 

“I’m going to be her pack mule.” 

Sanghyuk’s snort of laughter sounded almost painful. 

“You can laugh,” Wonshik said. “I don’t care.” He sighed wistfully. “I’d do anything for her.” 

—-

Mathletes, which Jaehwan was a member of, and student government, which Hakyeon was treasurer for, both met at lunch on Thursday, which meant that Taekwoon ate lunch alone on Thursdays. Some days she brought lunch with her so that she could sit in an empty classroom and eat in peace, other days she braved the lunchroom. Those days were rare. 

This day was a mix of both. She was braving the lunchroom only so that she could buy something to take to an empty classroom. She stood in the line to buy her sandwich, which looked sad and possibly a few days old, when she felt a tap on her shoulder. 

She turned, practically whirling. Sanghyuk beamed at her. Christ, she’d been close to him before but she’d never noticed until now that she had to tilt her head up to look him the eyes. “Hi,” he said. “You want to sit with us?” 

He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the table he’d apparently been sitting at. Wonshik was there, staring at her. Nobody else seemed to be paying them much mind, except for Ilhoon, pretty and tiny under Hyunsik’s arm. She was watching Taekwoon with a bored, disdainful look, but since Ilhoon had some of the best resting bitch face Taekwoon had ever seen, she tried to not take it personally. 

“Um,” she said. “No.” 

“Oh.” He quirked an eyebrow at her. “You’re going to sit by yourself?” 

She scowled at him. “It’s none of your business.” 

He faltered. “No, I just— you usually sit with your friends, right? But they don’t— it’s Thursday so they’re not here and I thought you could sit with us, just for today.” 

She looked back at his table. Sungjae was trying to throw tater tots into Hyunsik’s open mouth. 

“No,” she said again. She turned her back to him in the hopes he’d get the message this time and leave. After a moment he did. She snuck a look over her shoulder and saw him sliding back onto the bench, saying something to Wonshik, who smacked him on the back and then added something which made them both laugh. Her stomach swooped unpleasantly; it would be pointless to pretend they weren’t laughing at her. 

Taekwoon took her sandwich into a cubicle in the third floor bathroom, a move she hadn’t made since freshman year. She locked herself in and put the seat lid down so she could sit on it. She hated this, hated the way she felt so small in ways that she’d managed to avoid for so long. She was bad at making friends, if that’s what he wanted from her. But why would he want that? They’d never spoken a word to each other before this week. 

The door to the bathroom opened and there was a clatter as some girls came inside. One of them went into a cubicle, the others didn’t. Taekwoon could see their feet near the sinks, the sounds of lipgloss and mascara tubes being opened. After a moment one of them said, “Did you see Sanghyuk talking to that girl in the cafeteria line?” 

“Mm,” hummed the other. “Yeah. Wasn’t it the soccer captain or something?” 

“That’s her. The tall one.” 

“God, I’d kill myself if I was that tall. You’d never be able to wear heels.” 

“Girls like that never know how to wear heels,” said the third girl in the cubicle. There was the sound of the toilet flushing and the the door opening again as she stepped to the sinks with her friends. “Or use make-up, apparently.” 

The first girl said, “I heard she was like, a lesbian.” She said _lesbian_ the way Taekwoon would have said _serial monkey fucker_. 

“Of course she is,” said the third girl. “You only have to look at her.” 

“Why do you think Sanghyuk was talking to her? He doesn’t like, like her or something, does he?” 

The other two girls burst into laughter at the very thought. “Come _on_ , be real,” said one of them. “If Sanghyuk is into mannish angry lesbians, I really will kill myself.” 

They trailed out of the bathroom again, still laughing at the thought of Sanghyuk liking Taekwoon. Taekwoon felt like laughing herself. Or crying. One of the two, although laughter seemed closer to hand. Because she’d known all that herself, it wasn’t anything new. It hurt, but only as much as a reminder could hurt. 

It reminded her, more than anything, to never get her hopes up. That was the worst thing, the very worst thing, that she could do. 

——

It wasn’t that Wonshik was complaining about how early he had to be up on a Saturday morning. It was a sacrifice he was willing to make in the interests of spending most of the day with Hongbin. But still, it was really fucking early. 

He tapped out a rhythm on his steering wheel as he waited outside Hongbin’s house. He’d been working on a song for the past week, using his second period study hall to compose it in his head and on scrap pieces of paper instead of actually studying. He kept all the pieces of paper in a folder in his locker, taking it home only at weekends, careful to not let anyone at school see it. 

The door to Hongbin’s house swung open and she darted down the stairs to the door of the truck that Wonshik had borrowed from his dad especially. She put most of her stuff in the bed of the truck and then climbed up next to Wonshik in the front. “Sorry,” she said, a little breathlessly. “My dad was grilling me on why I’m going somewhere alone with a guy they don’t know.” 

Wonshik looked over at the door, where a man stood in the doorway, looking down at the truck. Wonshik waved a little and the man turned around and disappeared back into the house. “He’s overprotective?” 

“He watches a lot of SVU,” Hongbin said, buckling her belt. “I told him that it didn’t matter if he knew you if you decided to murder me, but I don’t think that went over well.” 

“No kidding,” Wonshik muttered. He started up the engine, ignoring the way it spluttered for a moment. “I know how to get up to the lake, but you’ll have to direct me after that for where you want to set up.” 

Hongbin nodded. “Sure.” She had her hair pulled back today, in a high ponytail that fell down between her shoulders in soft curls. One of her piercings was a gold stud, the other a long dangling gold cross. The weather was cooler today and the earrings went nicely with the chunky brown sweater she was wearing with skinny jeans and heavy looking brown boots. She leaned against the side of the truck door as Wonshik pulled out of the street, her camera bag nestled in her lap securely. 

They made the journey mostly in silence, although Wonshik turned on the radio once they got onto the freeway. He caught her murmuring the words to whichever top 40 pop song was playing, which made him smile. It wasn’t Wonshik’s usual music, but he wouldn’t have called it as something Hongbin listened to either. She seemed to be the artistic type; he expected her to listen to those slow alternative female artists. 

The lake wasn’t too busy this late in the year. Wonshik shrugged on his denim jacket to keep out the chill and then helped Hongbin get her stuff out of the back of the truck. She hadn’t been kidding when she said there was a lot to carry. He hadn’t realised that taking photographs was such an in-depth process. He took everything and let her carry the camera bag slung over her shoulder. 

Hongbin clearly knew where she was going. Outside of the main lodge, the tourist cabins, and the docks where people from town kept their boats, the lake was surrounded by smatterings of forest; Hongbin led him through the trees, knowing which way to step. It hadn’t rained in a while, so the ground was hard underfoot, but Wonshik still wished that he’d worn something other than his sneakers. They were his best pair of shoes outside of the dress boots his mom had made him buy last year, but maybe they weren’t what was called for here. 

They came out at an edge of the lake that sloped down into a roughshod beach, a small clearing that was bordered by large trees heavy with the orange and red and yellow leaves of fall. “Here,” Hongbin said, standing in the middle of it all with her hands on her hips. “You can just put the stuff down here, I’ll set it up how I want it.” 

Wonshik did so, carefully. He didn’t know what most of it was and he didn’t want to break anything. Then he retreated to the treeline edge to sit with his back against one of the larger trunks and watch Hongbin work. 

She was silent, for the most part, although sometimes she muttered to herself under her breath. He watched her for a long time, but unlike in class, she didn’t seem to realise he was doing it, lost in her photography. He didn’t know if she was any good at it but she certainly seemed to be putting the work in. 

He watched her for so long as she puttered around snapping that he actually drank in his fill. He pulled his copy of _The Great Gatsby_ out of his pocket and settled down to read the few chapters he was supposed to have done by Monday. He was enjoying it, at least; last year he’d been at where Sanghyuk currently was, stuck in 100% too much Shakespeare. 

He didn’t know how long he sat there reading but when Hongbin said his name and poked him in the thigh with her toe to get his attention, the sun was high in the sky and he suddenly realised how hungry he was. He squinted up at her, the sunlight creating a halo around her form. Like the goddess he’d claimed she was, he thought, laughing to himself. 

“I’m done,” she said. “The light’s not right anymore, it’s too strong for what I want. We should head out.” 

Wonshik nodded and stood up, dusting off his jeans. “Did you get stuff you can work with?” 

“Mm.” Hongbin bent her head over her camera, pressing through all the photos she’d taken. She was wearing makeup today, Wonshik thought idly. It was only mascara, but it was something. Usually she didn’t wear anything. Wonshik had an older sister; he knew how to look for these things. 

“Here,” she said, holding out the camera for him to look at. He took it from her and looked closely. It was a shot through the trees, the morning mist still lingering, the lighting low and creepy. Wonshik half-expected to see something coming out of the darkness in the back of the photo towards them, some lumbering creature. 

“This is amazing,” he said, and pressed through to the next one. It was a photograph of him, sitting with his book resting on his pulled up knees. The sunlight feathered out his hair, but sharpened the edges of his nose and jaw. He looked masculine and ethereal at the same time. It was a good photo. His heart skipped a little when he realised he hadn’t noticed her taking it. 

She snatched the camera back, cradling it to her chest as though she could hide what Wonshik had seen. She was blushing, which was a very new look on her. “Sorry,” she muttered. “It was just— it was a good shot, so I took it.” 

“It’s okay,” Wonshik said. He resisted the urge to press a hand to his face to see if he was as red as he felt. “I get it.” 

“Don’t take it the wrong way,” she said. 

“It’s okay,” Wonshik repeated. He turned to face the direction they’d come from, and then looked back at her. She was scowling at her camera, like it was its fault. “You want to get some lunch or something? I’m starving.” 

She looked unsure for a minute and then nodded. “Sure.” 

Wonshik took her to the diner that he and his dad used to go to when he was younger and they’d had a boat on the lake for fishing. It wasn’t anything special to look at, but the food was good and plentiful and the waitresses who worked the weekend lunch shift knew him a little. They sat in a booth near the back, away from the fishers and the truckers who were making a stop before they got back on the road. 

Wonshik watched as Hongbin looked around, taking it in. The truth was that his choice of restaurant was planned very carefully. He could have taken her to any number of nicer places, including places closer to town, but he didn’t want her to think that he thought it was a date. This was the kind of place friends went to together. It wasn’t the kind of place you took a date. 

“I’d recommend their tuna melt,” Wonshik said, nudging the menu towards her. Then he stopped. “Wait, you’re not a vegetarian, are you?” 

She smiled and took the menu. “No, Wonshik, I’m not.” 

“Okay, good,” he said. “You’d be struggling.” 

“No kidding,” she said, scanning the menu. “Has this place ever heard of a salad?” 

“No,” Wonshik said. “That’s what makes it so great.” 

She laughed, which was almost as good as her wicked grin from a few days ago. Wonshik smiled dopily at his own menu, barely taking it in. He knew it by heart, basically, anyway. When the waitress sauntered over, he ordered his usual cheeseburger with fries. Hongbin actually ordered the tuna melt. The waitress winked at Wonshik over her writing pad; it was the first time he’d ever come in here with a girl. Usually it was Sanghyuk. 

“What got you into photography?” Wonshik asked, as they waited for their food.

Hongbin shrugged. “I’ve always liked it. My parents put me in art classes when I was a kid and I was never much good at drawing but once they put a camera in my hands, everything seemed to click.” 

“Huh. Are you going to go to art school or something?” 

“I hope so. My dream school is NYU. Tisch, you know? But I’ll apply to a few places.” She rolled her eyes. “My dad wants me to go to UCLA like he did. Get a proper degree in business or something.”

Wonshik stayed silent and stirred his soda with his straw, round and round, to give his hands something to do. He was trying to ignore the whole concept of college and degrees. His sister went to Haverford, aiming for law school, and he was content to let her be the high flyer. He was good at sports, but not good enough to get a scholarship, and his academics were mediocre at best, as evidenced by his failing grade in algebra. He wasn’t even interested in anything enough to want to study it — except music, maybe, but well. He wasn’t good enough at that. 

The waitress saved him from saying anything else by bringing their food. As they ate, Hongbin asked about his family, so he was able to talk about his sister. After a few minutes Hongbin said, with a smile, “You sound like you miss her.” 

“I do,” said Wonshik, picking at his leftover fries. “She’s my sister, we’re pretty close.” 

“I’m an only child,” Hongbin said with a shrug. “I don’t really know what it’s like.” 

Wonshik thought about it. “It’s like having someone have your back,” he said. “All the time. Plus it’s nice to have someone who gets it when my parents are driving me mad.” 

She laughed, which he’d wanted. He caught sight of the waitress behind the register chatting to another woman. Their eyes met for a second and in that moment she held out a thumbs up on each hand. Wonshik choked on his soda, which made Hongbin laugh even harder. 

After they’d finished, they split the bill; he made that decision carefully, wanting desperately to pay for it but aware that could be so easily taken the way he’d been steering them away from. She didn’t say anything for or against it. 

They made the drive back to her place quietly, the music playing over the radio again, although this time Wonshik found a station that played older rock music. He had been trying to find an R&B station but when he paused on the rock station, Hongbin sat up straighter and said, “I love this song,” and so Wonshik let them listen to it. It all went over his head but she seemed happy which, he was quickly figuring out, was something he felt too invested in. 

Outside her house, she paused before saying, “I’ll see you on Monday?” 

“Sure,” he said. “I’m looking forward to it.” 

She rolled her eyes and began to get out of the car. “Hey,” Wonshik said, touching her arm and then darting back. “I, um. I was wondering if you could help me with something?” 

She smiled at the echo of her words to him. “What?” 

“I’m— I’m kind of failing algebra,” he said. His ears felt hot with embarrassment. “I’m just not good with math. But you are, you’re the top of our class. So I was wondering if maybe you’d tutor me, at least until I’m in the pass bracket.” 

She looked at him for a long moment before she sighed and said, “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Wonshik.” 

He sat back and swallowed thickly. “Why not?” 

“I know how you feel about me,” she said quietly. “I’m not— I don’t want to spend time with you because I have to. I don’t want to be stuck spending time with you.” 

To Wonshik’s horror, he thought he might cry for the first time since he was twelve and broke his arm trying to do a trick on his skateboard. “I see.” 

“I’m not saying I don’t want to spend time with you,” she said. “I think I might like that. Today was fun. But tutoring you would mean being forced together. I don’t think that’s fair on either of us. Does that make sense?” 

It didn’t, but Wonshik couldn’t work out what to say, so he just nodded. She put her hand on the door handle and then hesitated. She bit her lip for a moment before she darted forward and pressed a barely-there kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for today,” she said. “I’ll see you on Monday?” 

Wonshik could only nod again, struck dumb. She climbed out of the truck and collected her things and disappeared into the house without looking back at him, her back a straight, tense line. He sat outside her house for a few minutes, knowing he looked like a creep, unable to help it when his hands were shaking too hard to turn the ignition. His cheek burned where she’d kissed him. 

He smacked his head off the steering wheel. “Fuck,” he said. 

——

Taekwoon had a standing study date with Hakyeon and Jaehwan at a coffee shop downtown on Sundays. They even had a regular table that the weekend staff knew to keep open for them, in the corner by the window. Taekwoon was studying Spanish verbs and Hakyeon typing up a paper for her AP Economics class when Jaehwan rolled up, late because her parents still made her go to church. 

Taekwoon looked at her high waist shorts and bright sunflower-printed blouse and said, “Tell me you didn’t go to church like that.” 

Jaehwan snorted. At least three guys had watched her progress across the coffee shop and were staring still. Jaehwan may not have had the same kind of effortless style as Hakyeon, or Hakyeon’s body that one guy in sophomore chemistry had described as “banging”, but she was small and skinny and looked deceptively frail in a way that guys liked. 

“Of course not,” she said. “I was in a demure little navy blue number. Very Ann Taylor. In fact, I think I did actually get it from Ann Taylor.” 

Taekwoon pushed Jaehwan’s order across the table towards her, a strawberry milkshake. The order had been perfectly timed for her arrival. They had it down to an art, by this point. Jaehwan slurped at it happily which made Hakyeon glare at her over the screen of her laptop. Jaehwan stuck her tongue out. 

“Play nicely,” Taekwoon murmured, already letting her eyes drift back to the list of Spanish in front of her on the table. Jaehwan pulled out a stack of textbooks from her backpack with a clatter. Jaehwan liked to pretend that she was a slacker but between the subject titles on those books, and the hour long music classes she took three times a week, she worked damn hard. 

Soon the only sound between them was the rustle of Jaehwan turning pages, the scribble of her pen as she made notes, and the click of Hakyeon’s fingernails against her keyboard. Taekwoon let it all wash over her, settling into the calm that these weekly sessions brought her. It couldn’t last; even in the middle of studying neither Hakyeon or Jaehwan could keep their mouths shut for very long. 

Jaehwan leaned down to grab a packet of highlighters from her bag and murmured, “Well, well, look what the cat dragged in.” 

Taekwoon looked up and then felt her mouth fall open. Sanghyuk was walking up to the counter like he came there every day, like he was supposed to be there. She gaped at him as he ordered something from a barista who lingered a little too long taking his order. When he stood by the counter to wait for his drink, he looked around the room. His eyes landed on her table and his eyebrows raised. Jaehwan lifted a hand and waggled her fingers at him. Taekwoon smacked her hand out of the air. 

“What is he doing here?” Taekwoon hissed, slinking down in her seat like she could avoid his eyes when he already knew where she was. 

“I don’t know, Taekwoon,” drawled Jaehwan, rubbing her hand. “Seems to me like he’s getting coffee.” 

“You know what I mean!” 

Sanghyuk appeared by their table suddenly, like he’d materialised out of all of Taekwoon’s nightmares. He had a plastic cup of what looked like iced black coffee in his hands. “Hey,” he said, smiling at her, his eyes not leaving her face. “I see you already knew where my coffee shop was.” 

“What are you doing here?” Taekwoon asked, barely even taking it in. “Are you stalking me?” 

He frowned at her. “I come here every weekend.” 

“No, you don’t,” she said. “I am here every Sunday and I have never seen you here before.” 

His eyes crinkled at the corners, and he gestured at her with his cup. “You come here every Sunday? Good. Maybe I’ll see you here next week too.” 

Hakyeon cleared her throat. Sanghyuk glanced at her, his smile faltering a little. “Hi,” he said. “Sorry. Hakyeon, right?” 

“The one and only,” Hakyeon said. She looked like she was five seconds from bursting into laughter. “Do you want to join us? We’re just studying.”

Taekwoon kicked her under the table, which jerked the table and their drinks almost toppled over. Hakyeon grabbed her cappuccino and widened her eyes at Taekwoon in admonishment. Taekwoon was going to straight up murder her. 

“No, thanks,” said Sanghyuk, like nothing had happened. “I was just popping in on my way to the library, I’m meeting Wonshik there.” He slid his gaze across to Jaehwan, and his posture smoothed out a little to something more relaxed. “Hey,” he said, like he knew her. 

“Hey,” Jaehwan said, _like she knew him_. “Nice shirt.” 

He glanced down at his LAWRENCE FUN RUN 2015 t-shirt. “Thanks, I thought so too. Nice blouse.” 

“Isn’t it?” Jaehwan held out a hand and they pumped fists. Taekwoon’s mouth was hanging open again. “How’s your mom?” 

Sanghyuk shrugged. “Fine. Big, she’s due in a month, so she’s struggling to get around a bit. Doesn’t stop her from sweeping the porch every morning.” 

“You should volunteer,” Jaehwan said. “Big, strapping boy like you.” 

“I tried. She said I do it wrong.” 

“Wait,” Taekwoon blurted out. Both of them turned to her. “You guys know each other?” 

“We live on the same street,” Jaehwan said. She leaned back in her chair, holding her milkshake. “But our moms knew each other before that.” 

Taekwoon glared at her, trying to put everything she was feeling into her eyes. She thought it probably worked because Jaehwan turned her head away so she couldn’t see anymore. She turned that glare on Sanghyuk, who took a step backwards. “We have to study,” she said. “You need to leave.” 

“Oh.” He looked at Hakyeon who was staring at her laptop screen, the corner of her mouth twitching, then at Jaehwan, who rolled her eyes at him. He chewed the inside of his mouth for a moment and then smiled at Taekwoon. “I’ll see you on Monday.” 

“You will?” she asked blankly. 

“Sure,” he said. “You have a match, don’t you?” 

She did, but she couldn’t believe he knew that. She was right, he _was_ stalking her. What was his problem? Had she done something to piss him off? She pressed her lips together and turned her face resolutely to her homework, so she didn’t have to look at his face. She was aware of him leaving, and then even more aware of Hakyeon reaching over and punching her in the arm. 

“What the fuck was that, Taekwoon?” 

Taekwoon punched her back, harder. “What do you mean?” 

“You can’t be serious right now. He— he could barely keep his eyes off you, and you were so rude to him.” 

“That’s not true,” she argued. “He looked at Jaehwan for a long time. Because he _knows_ her.” 

“Hate the game, not the player,” Jaehwan said with a shrug. “I don’t know him that well. Did he really tell you about this coffee shop?” 

“Yes. The morning he got me at my locker, remember? He kept talking about it until I walked away.” 

“How did he talk about it?” Jaehwan asked. “Did he just tell you about it, or was it like, do you like coffee because I know a great place?” 

Taekwoon thought about it. “The second, I guess. He saw my Starbucks cup.” 

“Holy shit,” said Hakyeon. “He was trying to ask you out on a date, Taekwoon, you idiot.” 

Taekwoon rolled her eyes. “No, he wasn’t. I’ve told you before, Hakyeon, he doesn’t like me. He can’t like me.” 

“Why do you keep saying that?” Hakyeon asked. “Yes, he can like you. He _does_ like you.” 

“Why can’t he like you?” Jaehwan asked, leaning forward in her chair and looking at Taekwoon intently. 

“He just can’t.” 

“Yes, but _why_?” 

Both of them were looking at her now, with those expressions on their faces that said they weren’t going to drop the subject until she answered. She’d seen it a handful of times, mostly back when her anxiety was worse and she retreated into herself, unable to get her thoughts into a line. Usually it was the look they used until she got all the words in her head outside of it and she felt better about whatever she was hung up on. They’d never used it to drag boy troubles out of her.

“Because Han Sanghyuk could have any girl in the entire school,” she said eventually. “He’s— he’s really good looking and all the girls want him and— and so why would he want me? How could he want me? All I do is snap and yell at him and I’m not pretty, and I don’t have a good body, and if he’s acting like he likes me, then there has to be something else there. Like he’s playing a joke on me. Because—” She glanced at Hakyeon, who was frowning, but in sympathy, because she knew what Taekwoon was saying. “Because boys do that to me, sometimes.” 

Jaehwan reared back and almost knocked her milkshake on the floor. “They do _what_?” 

“Back in freshman year,” Hakyeon said tiredly, “when the guys in our school were even more immature than they are now, believe it or not, sometimes they’d tell Taekwoon that their friend liked her in an attempt at embarrassing their friend.” 

“Hmm.” Jaehwan flipped to a new page in her notebook. “Tell me who. Give me names. I need to destroy them.” 

“I don’t remember their names,” Hakyeon said. 

“Me neither,” said Taekwoon. The truth was, she did. One of them sat behind her in calculus, and had given her one of his spare pencils when hers had snapped down the middle. She doubted he even remembered the joke he’d played on her. “They used to do it in middle school too.” 

“Boys are the worst,” Jaehwan said. “But if it makes you feel any better, I’ll vouch for Sanghyuk.” 

“It doesn’t,” Taekwoon said. “He doesn’t like me.” 

“He might.” 

“He doesn’t!” Taekwoon shouted. Everyone in the coffee shop turned to stare at her. She slumped into her seat, wishing the ground would open up so she could slide into the cool damp earth and stay there forever. 

Jaehwan opened her mouth but Hakyeon slapped her hand over it. “Stop,” she said. “Drop it.” Jaehwan scowled and then Hakyeon snatched her hand away. “Ew! She licked me!” 

“That’s okay,” said Jaehwan. “You know where I’ve been, after all.” 

Hakyeon sighed, as if praying for patience, and went back to her laptop. But for the rest of the study session, Taekwoon could feel her watching periodically, her eyes gazing at Taekwoon, carefully assessing. Taekwoon ignored her. 

——

Wonshik had to go through the school to get a math tutor, the end result of which being that now he had to spend half an hour after basketball practise in the library with Lee Jaehwan. He hadn’t realised she was that smart, but apparently she was in honours pre-Calc, which was so shocking that Wonshik felt the need to re-evaluate everything he thought he knew about her. 

He also felt the need to ask her where she’d bought her purple patent leather Doc Martens but it might be too forward a question. 

She finished marking off the set of test questions she’d given him and slid it across to him. He’d scored 2/10 but she’d given him an extra half point for work shown. She spun around slowly in the library desk chair she sat on. “You really are bad at this, aren’t you?” she said musingly. 

Wonshik tore the paper in half. “I’m not good at math,” he said. “It doesn’t make sense to me.” 

“It doesn’t have to make sense,” Jaehwan said. “In fact, it’s better if you don’t try to make sense of it. You just _do_ it.” 

Wonshik looked at her helplessly. She reached into her backpack resting on the floor and brought out another stack of papers. “These are past final papers from Algebra II, they give them to the math tutors. By the time I’m done with you, you’re going to be able to do all of these, easy peasy lemon squeezy. I promise.” 

“But I won’t understand anything I’ve done?” 

“Do you want to understand? No offense but if you’re this bad at basic algebra, then does it matter if you understand all the rules and stuff? No, it doesn’t. What matters is you pass this damn class and get into senior year and then you can stop worrying about math altogether. Capiche?” 

Wonshik stared at her. “Are you sure you’re a math tutor?” 

“I find that offensive,” she said. “Here,” she added, tossing another test across at him. “Do that. I need to really know how bad the damage is.” 

Wonshik sighed and picked up his pencil. This test wasn’t any easier than the first, although some things rung a bell, like maybe his brain had heard some of it when he’d been busy staring at Hongbin. But it still had a lot of stuff on it that he didn’t know, stuff that read like another language. 

He was in the middle of erasing another messed up solution when Jaehwan said, “I was surprised when they told me I would be tutoring you.” 

He looked up at her. She was tapping a pencil against a workbook full of devil math writing. “Why?” 

She shrugged. “I just never heard of a jock going through the school tutoring system. Usually they find a friend to help them, or mommy and daddy hire a proper one.” 

Wonshik could feel himself going a little pink. “I uh, I don’t want my parents knowing how badly I’m failing. If I could get my grade up before report cards go out, it would be a lifesaver for me. And I asked someone to help but she said no.” 

“Who did you ask?” 

He was definitely pink now. “Lee Hongbin. She’s in my class. She’s acing it, so I thought maybe she could help me.” 

“Hongbin, huh.” Jaehwan straightened up and pointed at him with her pencil. “You like her, don’t you?” 

Wonshik gaped at her, taken aback. “What makes you think that?” 

“The dopey way you say her name.” 

Wonshik winced. That was why Sanghyuk called her “photography girl”; he’d found himself saying “Hongbin” the way Wonshik said it and it was just too much for him, the way it got a little helpless right in the middle. “Um. Yes, I like her. She knows though so it’s not like it’s a secret.” 

“Good choice,” Jaehwan said. “She’s hot.” 

“You know her?” Wonshik asked, then; “Wait, what do you mean, she’s hot?” 

“She’s in my English class.” Jaehwan leaned back in her chair, smirking. She seemed like she was going to ignore the second question. “She turned you down, did she?” 

“Yeah. She said— uh. That she didn’t want to be forced to spend time with me.” 

Jaehwan’s face softened a little. “That’s rough.” 

“I guess she— I mean, what does it mean when a girl says she’d like to spend time with you but she doesn’t want to be forced to spend time with you? How do I like, make the distinction?” 

Jaehwan tapped her bottom lip with her pencil. She was pretty, Wonshik supposed, although not really his type. Her comment may suggest that he wasn’t her type either. Maybe that was just as well. He really didn’t know a lot about Jaehwan. She had friends, was nominally popular, but their circles had never brushed up against each other. She was the star of the choir, he was on the basketball team; there wasn’t much call to know each other. 

“Girls aren’t all that complicated,” Jaehwan said eventually. “I know guys like to act like they are, but that’s because you’re too busy thinking about them like a hive mind. But I can get what she’s saying. If that’s how you say her name, I can’t imagine how you actually look at her.” 

Wonshik flushed. “I _try_ not to stare.” 

Jaehwan snorted. “I’m sure you do. But maybe you should ask her what she meant? I can see how she might be uncomfortable if she had to spend time with a guy who so obviously wanted her, but like, I’m not Hongbin. Personally I’d be all over that. Disappointing men’s hopes and dreams is what keeps me alive.” 

Wonshik squinted at her. “You’re a lesbian, aren’t you?” 

“Great Scott, I think he _is_ capable of deduction,” intoned Jaehwan. She pointed at the test. “Would you hurry up with that? I only get paid for the half-hour and Taekwoon won’t wait for me after that.” 

“You’re friends with Taekwoon?” 

“I’m just full of surprises, aren’t I.” She waggled the pencil at him. “Clock’s ticking.” 

Wonshik sighed. Then he turned back to his test. He got 3/10 this time, and .75 of a point because he almost got another question but messed up one number. 

“See? It’s already progress,” Jaehwan said. 

—-

Sanghyuk was re-tying his sneakers after basketball practise, his hair still dripping on the floor, when one of his teammates stuck in his head back into the locker room and said, “Uh, Sanghyuk, you’ve got someone waiting out here for you.” 

He looked up hopefully. “Taekwoon?” He’d take it even if she was here to yell at him. He’d tried to talk to her after her Monday game but she’d looked at him as though he was speaking another language and told him to move, he was blocking the door to the bathroom. It wasn’t going well, was his point. 

His teammate shook his head, frowning. “No, man, not her. It’s the hot one, I don’t remember her name.” 

Sanghyuk pursed his lips, a little offended over the distinction between Taekwoon and this apparent “hot one”. He finished tying his shoes and then collected his stuff from his locker. Girls waiting around after practise for him wasn’t exactly unusual. He used to even like it, liked the attention. Now it just felt like a bother. 

But the girl waiting for him outside the locker room wasn’t a girl here to fawn over him. It was Hakyeon, leaning against the wall, tapping at her phone with perfectly manicured nails. Sanghyuk guessed he could see why she was the hot one, at least according to his teammate, with her curves and her short floral dress and heeled boots. She tossed her long, black hair over her shoulder when she saw him, slid her phone into her purse, and then pointed a finger at him. “We need to talk,” she said. 

“Um, okay,” said Sanghyuk. He followed Hakyeon down the hallway, ignoring the curious looks of his teammates. Thankfully Wonshik had already left, rushing off for his tutor session with Jaehwan, so he wouldn’t be able to give Sanghyuk the third degree about it. 

Hakyeon led him to an empty science classroom, a couple of hallways away from the locker room, like she was trying to avoid being followed or something. She waved him into the room and then shut the door behind herself with a final sounding click. Then she stood between him and the only exit and folded her arms over her chest. 

“What do you want with Taekwoon?” she asked. 

Sanghyuk blinked at her. “What?” 

“What,” she said, enunciating carefully, “do you want. With Taekwoon.” 

He scrubbed at the back of his head with a hand. “What does it have to do with you?” 

That was the wrong thing to say, although he really was wondering. She stalked forward and poked him in the chest. She came up to his sternum but it was a damn good poke; he felt it for a minute afterwards. “She’s my best friend, you little shit, so when some guy starts sniffing around her, I make sure he’s not just playing around with her.” 

Sanghyuk rubbed at his chest. “I’m not playing around with her?” 

She squinted at him. “Oh yeah? You don’t sound sure enough for my liking.” 

“You’ve kind of taken me by surprise here,” he said. “I’m not exactly on top form right now.” 

“You have to think fast if you want to play in the big leagues,” she said. “So get on top form. If you’re not playing around with her, what are you doing.” 

His first reaction was to bluster and blow her off, but even small and made-up as she was, she looked like she would shank him with one of the dissecting knives if he tried to give her any bullshit. She looked like she wouldn’t even hesitate before she did it. It was more than a little scary. 

“I don’t know,” he said after a few moments. “I like her, I guess.” 

“You guess?” 

He flinched at the disdain dripping from her voice. “I don’t really know her,” he pointed out. “And every time I try to talk to her, she gets mad or shuts me out. She tried to slam my fingers in her locker last week.” 

Hakyeon’s eyebrows rose. Clearly Taekwoon had never told her that. “She did what?” 

“I think I was bugging her,” he admitted. 

“Everything bugs Taekwoon all the time,” said Hakyeon. “I’d tell you to not take it personally but, well, I’m not sure I like you yet.” 

“I thought you were supposed to be the nice one,” Sanghyuk said. 

Hakyeon smiled at him, a shark disguised as a rabbit. “You thought wrong, sweetheart.” 

Sanghyuk sighed and flopped down into the nearest chair, running a hand through his damp hair. “She just interests me,” he said quietly. “She’s so quiet but when she gets on the soccer field she’s so aggressive, she plays so well. That’s what drew me in, to begin with.” 

“And now?” 

He willed himself not to turn pink but could tell that he’d failed. He tried to shrug it off. “She’s pretty.” 

Hakyeon smirked. “Yeah?” 

“Yes,” said Sanghyuk, trying to stare her down. “She is. Maybe not like you’re pretty, or like Ilhoon is, but she’s still really pretty and I want to know her more.” 

Hakyeon seemed pleased by that. She hummed under her breath and twisted a curl of hair around a finger for a few moments. Then she said, “I’m going to give you some advice, because I think you’re being genuine, but if you— have you ever seen the movie She’s All That?” 

Sanghyuk paused, thinking it was a joke. Then he said, “No?” 

“Freddie Prinze Jr. and his friend make this bet that Freddie Prinze Jr. can make this super unpopular weird girl into prom queen. So he acts like her friend and takes her places and you know, makes her like him. But it’s all fake, because it’s just a bet. You see?” 

Sanghyuk didn’t. “Not really.” 

Hakyeon rolled her eyes at him. “My point is that if you’re doing this for some kind of joke, or for any reason other than the fact that you like her, I will find out. If you hurt her in any way, I will find out. And I will make you wish you were dead.” 

Sanghyuk could well believe it. “It’s not a joke,” he said. “I’m not trying to pull anything. She’s—” he struggled for the right word. “Special. She’s special.” 

Hakyeon pursed her lips. She looked like a tiger sizing up its prey before it pounced. “She is,” she said. “She’s very special. And sometimes guys are jerks to her. Actually guys are always jerks to her. So I’m telling you that if you want to know her better, then you have to commit. There’s no messing around here, there’s no taking the light approach. If you don’t show you’re serious about her, you’re never going to see what she’s really like.” 

“What do you suggest I do?” 

“I don’t suggest anything, that’s all up to you. I’m just warning you that it’s not going to be easy. I don’t know if you have what it takes.” 

Sanghyuk looked at her, hard, thinking about it all. He couldn’t really say that he was willing to commit, which sounded a little too close to marriage language for his liking, but he didn’t think he was messing around. “She’s… she must be really something, if you’re willing to defend and protect her like this.” 

“This is nothing,” Hakyeon said breezily. “Mess it up and they won’t find the pieces of your body.” 

“No, I just mean— all she’s done to me is be kind of mean, but if you’re this invested in protecting here then that must mean something. And I want to know what that is. I want to know her more.” 

“Good,” Hakyeon said. “Then we should have no problems. But I’ll be keeping my eye on you.” She reached out and pinched his cheek like his grandma used to do before he grew too tall for her to reach. “So don’t disappoint me, hmm?” 

She sauntered out of the classroom, hips swaying in a way that was obviously put on. Sanghyuk rubbed at his cheek, frowning. He felt a little shell-shocked and a lot confused. Not least because he still had no idea how he was supposed to crack Taekwoon’s hard outer shell to get to the gooey center. 

He let his hand drop to his side. “Never think that again,” he told himself. 

—-

It took until the bell rang on their Friday Algebra class before Wonshik worked up the courage to touch Hongbin on the arm and ask, quietly, “Can we talk?” 

She raised an eyebrow. They’d gone most of the week without talking. Wonshik had done his best to avoid staring at her in class and left as soon as the bell rang so that he wasn’t late to basketball anymore. He could understand her skepticism. “Now?” 

“No,” he said. “I just— after school, maybe? I can meet you by your locker, I can give you a ride home if you need it, I just, I need to apologise and ask you something.” 

She hesitated and then slung her bag over her shoulder. “Okay,” she said. “3:30, at my locker. I’d ask how you know where that is but I’m not sure I want to know.” 

“It’s next to Sungjae’s,” he said, trying to reassure. “I’ve just seen you around there.” 

She nodded. “I’ll see you then.” 

That was all well and good but it meant Wonshik had to get through another hour of basketball practise before he got to see her. He was so distracted thinking of what he was going to say that the coach yelled at him five times. The only saving grace was that Sanghyuk was also distracted with some grand plan he had for the weekend and the coach saved most of his anger for him. 

He’d already texted Jaehwan to let her know he was skipping out on tutoring. She replied with a cheering on emoji and then said that she demanded all the details on Monday. Wonshik rolled his eyes. He didn’t know what kind of details she was expecting but she’d probably be disappointed. 

When he walked up to Hongbin’s locker after practise, she looked a little surprised to see him. She had her backpack, as usual, and her camera bag, and a school tripod which she shoved at him. “I’ve decided that you can give me a ride home,” she said, as he awkwardly took the tripod into his arms like he would do with a newborn baby. “Since I don’t want to take all this on the bus.” 

Her voice was all bravado. Wonshik was beginning to get the feeling that he’d really messed something up, and that he would have to rewrite his apology. She kept nervously tucking her hair behind her ear as they walked out to the parking lot. She looked kind of surprised to see his old Chevrolet Malibu, with the giant dent in the side that he’d never gotten around to fixing. “It was my sister’s,” he said in explanation. 

Her lips quirked. “Does this thing even have air conditioning?” 

Wonshik chose not to answer that. “I’m getting a new one during the summer,” he said. “I’ve been saving up.” 

“A new one of these?” she asked. “Why bother?” 

“Not one of these,” he said. He wanted to throw her stuff on the back seat in retaliation but instead he laid everything down carefully. “Something that can go over 40 miles per hour.” 

She laughed and climbed into the passenger seat. It wasn’t the kind of car she should be sitting in, he reflected, as he climbed into his own seat. She needed to be driving down the coast in a convertible with the wind in her hair, not sitting in his shitty car with the broken CD player and a rear view mirror that he could barely move. 

“Where do you want to talk?” she asked, as he pulled out of the parking lot and got stuck behind someone’s obnoxious SUV. “There’s a Starbucks near my house we could go to.” 

Wonshik nodded. He knew the way to her house from picking her up last weekend but he still let her direct him, her voice a distraction from the knowledge of the conversation that they were about to have. It was one thing to know they needed to talk, another to actually do it. 

The Starbucks was busy at this time, full of high school students vying for space with the students from the college a couple of blocks away. Perhaps in deference to the awkward, tense atmosphere, they ordered their drinks separately and paid separately. Wonshik was always baffled by the menus in coffee shops like this and ordered a tea, which got a raised eyebrow from the girl behind the counter that he ignored. While Hongbin waited for her considerably more complicated coffee, Wonshik found them a table with low chairs against the wall, stealing it as a mother and daughter vacated it. 

Hongbin dropped her bag on the floor and folded down into the chair opposite Wonshik with an air of supreme calmness, a queen viewing an unfavourable subject perhaps. She crossed a leg over the other, her foot dangling in the air. “What did you want to talk about?”

“What happened on Saturday.” He picked up his cup of tea and played with the rim. “I wanted to apologise. I didn’t mean to make you feel awkward.”

She regarded him over the rim of her own cup, steam rising in soft spirals around her face. “I thought you were going to apologise for ignoring me this whole week.”

He flinched. “I— I was thinking a lot, this week, about what you said.”

“What I said?”

He nodded and put his cup back down on the table. “About wanting to spend time with me but not wanting to be forced. I didn’t really understand what that meant. I was trying to figure it out.”

She frowned and took a sip from her coffee. “It means what it means,” she said, after a moment. 

“I don’t— I still don’t quite get it.”

She looked at him and then sighed, in a way that he’d like to think was fond and exasperated, but was probably just annoyed and exasperated. “If we hang out, I want it to be because we want to hang out,” she said. “Not because I’m your tutor and we have to see each other.”

“But we’d get to see each other,” he pointed out. 

“Sure,” she said. “But we already see each other, every day, in class. I don’t want to have an extension of that. There’s no, you know, effort involved.” She sipped her coffee again. “I like it when people put some effort into their relationships.” 

He blinked. “We have a relationship?” 

“Sure,” she said innocently. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

He didn’t know if she was just messing him around. It felt like a trick question, and she was still sipping her coffee. “Yes?” 

Her face softened. “Wonshik, when I said that, it was because I was expecting you to ask me out on a date, not ask me to be your tutor.” 

“ _Oh_ ,” he said.

“I mean I guess it was flattering that you thought I was that good at math, but— we’d had such a good day, and you’d acted nothing like what I thought, and I really hoped…”

She trailed off. Wonshik gave her a moment but she didn’t continue. “Nothing like you’d thought?”

She went pink, right across her nose. It was fascinating. “I thought you’d be, you know. A typical guy? But I took you out into the forest and you just let me get on with my work and then you took me for lunch and you paid but you didn’t make it into a big deal. And it was nice.”

“And you would have gone on an actual date with me.”

“Yes,” she said. “I guess so.”

His heart felt like it was going to explode out of his chest, it was pounding so hard. It took him a moment to speak because his mouth had gone so dry. “And what if I asked now? What if I asked you to see a movie with me this weekend?” 

She pursed her lips around the straw to her frappucino; Wonshik tried to not think about it too hard. “I’d ask which movie you were planning on taking me to.” 

Wonshik thought about it for a minute, trying to put together everything he knew about Hongbin with what movies he knew were playing this weekend. There was an arty French movie that he could possibly make himself sit through, a bunch of blockbusters, and one horror movie that Sanghyuk was desperate to see. Eventually he said, “Whichever movie you want to see.” 

She smiled at him, that full smile which reached her eyes and about took his breath away. That was the right answer, apparently. 

——

Jaehwan showed up later than usual to their Sunday study session, even bearing in mind the time it took her to change out of her church attire and put on the most shocking outfit she could find in her wardrobe just to spite her parents. When she eventually showed up, she was dressed in a black shift dress that said I PUT THE FUN IN FUNERAL, black thigh-highs, and her purple Docs that she’d picked up at a thrift store years earlier. 

She also turned up with Sanghyuk. 

“I’m going to kill her,” Taekwoon hissed as Jaehwan bounced into the coffee shop, holding the door open for a grinning Sanghyuk. “Hakyeon, she’s dead. I’ll kill her with the knife you cut your bagel with.” 

Hakyeon moved the plastic knife out of Taekwoon’s reach but she also frowned in Jaehwan’s direction. “They’re friends, Taekwoon. Maybe it’s just a coincidence.” 

“Hey, guys!” Jaehwan said cheerfully. “I invited Sanghyuk along.” 

Sanghyuk had gone to the counter to order his coffee, so he wasn’t looking when Taekwoon lunged across the table and almost got a fist in Jaehwan’s dress before she skittered away, looking mockingly shocked. Hakyeon sighed, stirring her straw in her iced mocha. “Are you trying to play matchmaker?” she asked. “I told you not to. I told you I had it under control.” 

Taekwoon frowned. “Have you guys been talking about me?” 

Hakyeon coughed, turning her gaze up to the ceiling. Jaehwan rolled her eyes. “I’m not trying to be a matchmaker. I just thought he could come and study with us.” She widened her eyes at Taekwoon, innocence radiating off her. “We’re not the only ones who need to study, Taekwoon.” 

Taekwoon grabbed at her again, determined to wring her neck, but Jaehwan jumped out of reach right into Sanghyuk. “Oof,” he said, steadying her with his hand against her shoulder, the other holding the same iced black coffee he’d had last weekend. Next to his bulk, Jaehwan looked even smaller and cuter than usual. _They_ looked like a good couple, Taekwoon thought bitterly. 

“My hero,” Jaehwan said, batting her eyelashes at him. He laughed softly. She drew away from him and pulled another chair from a nearby table over. Then she took the one next to Hakyeon, picking up the milkshake that had been left on the table for her. That meant that Sanghyuk had to sit between her and Taekwoon. 

Taekwoon glared at him but he sat down anyway. He dumped his backpack on the floor and pulled a textbook and notebook out. “Wonshik is on a date today,” he said, almost apologetically, “so I was out a study buddy. It was really nice of you guys to invite me.” 

“We didn’t,” Taekwoon said. “Jaehwan did.” 

“Same thing,” said Jaehwan, waving her hand in dismissal. 

Even though he already had his stuff out, Sanghyuk suddenly looked unsure. “I. Um. If you want me to leave, then I can. I don’t mean to intrude.” 

“You’re fine,” said Jaehwan, returning Taekwoon’s glare like a pro. “Isn’t he?” 

“It’s fine by me,” said Hakyeon, the _traitor_. Taekwoon expected it from Jaehwan but it was too much from Hakyeon. 

“Fine,” said Taekwoon. “It doesn’t make a difference to me.” 

He didn’t look convinced but neither did he leave. He spread his things on the table, taking up just the right amount of space, not letting his things sneak into Taekwoon’s area. She turned her face to her homework but peered up when she thought he wasn’t looking and saw that he was studying Japanese, making notes carefully with a mechanical pencil. His hands, she thought, weren’t anything special, typical boy hands, bigger than hers, or at least she hoped. But somehow she couldn’t stop looking at them, the way they looked holding the pencil. 

“That looks difficult,” he said, startling her. She jumped and almost knocked her drink onto the floor; he caught it and set it firmly back on the table. She was too embarrassed, and mad about it, to ask what he meant, but he clarified anyway. “Your homework.” 

Taekwoon gave him her half-stare, the one where she wasn’t quite sure how to respond but was acknowledging the comment. He didn’t know her well enough to know what it meant, though, so he just looked uncomfortable. “It’s not that hard,” she said. 

“It’s AP Calculus,” Hakyeon said. “Of course it’s hard.” 

Taekwoon shrugged. It was hard in the sense that you had to think about what you were doing, but that wasn’t hard, not really, that was just interesting. She liked the semi-trance math and science could bring, the way it felt to figure out how things fit together and worked. She liked things to be clear cut. 

“Not that hard,” she repeated. 

Sanghyuk smiled. She could feel that he was watching her, his eyes lingering on her face, but she was purposely not looking at him, for fear that she’d get caught looking at his hands again. His arms were directly in her eyesight though, the muscle of his forearms where his henley sleeves stopped. Her eyes kept drifting to them. She hated herself. 

“I’m kind of bad at math,” he said. “I get decent grades but I don’t think I have the right mind for it.” 

She brought her knee up onto her seat, shifting her body away from him, almost in self-preservation. After a couple of silent moments, she said, softly, “What are you good at?” 

The pleased surprise on his face was almost too much to bear. Hakyeon was right; she had been rude to him, even for her standards. She didn’t know why he wanted to be friends so badly, but the least she could do was be civil. 

“I’m not sure I’m good at anything other than basketball,” he said. “But I like Japanese, so I work at it. I’d like English more if it wasn’t all dead British people.” 

She reached wordlessly into her bag and brought out her copy of _Wuthering Heights_ , almost finished now, and placed it on the table between them. He laughed, picking it up and turning it over in his hands. “I guess that never stops being the case, huh?” he said. 

She shook her head. She could feel her lips twitching and she had to force the smile back down. He handed her the book back and then said, “You know, you should come and watch one of the basketball games sometime.” 

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why?” 

He shrugged. “I figured since I come and see your games all the time, you should come and see one of mine.” 

“I never asked you to,” she said. She knew he was simply looking at her so intently because she was quiet and the coffee shop was relatively loud, but it still made her skin tingle. She’d worked hard to keep the awareness of how good looking he was at bay, and she couldn’t afford to let that hard work go to waste. 

“I know.” He leaned closer to her, almost in her personal space but not enough that a normal person would be uncomfortable. She wasn’t a normal person but she forced herself to stay still. “But you’re glad I come, right?”

“You’re a distraction,” she said. 

He looked flattered by that. “I am?” 

“Yes,” she said, and didn’t elaborate. 

“Half the girls on the soccer team think you’re the cutest,” Jaehwan said, voice going sickly sweet on the last word. “What’s that, if not a distraction.” 

“So it’s distracting for the team,” Sanghyuk said, “and not for Taekwoon?” 

“I never said that,” said Jaehwan. Hakyeon smacked her on the arm. “What? I’m just saying, I never said which half thinks he’s cute.” 

Taekwoon wished the ground would split and swallow her. But Sanghyuk didn’t say anything. He was still slightly in her personal bubble when he tilted his head to the side and smiled at her. “Will you come and see one of my games?” he asked softly. 

“Why?” she repeated, almost whispering it.

“Because I’d like you to.” 

“...Why?” 

His smile quirked at the corner. He reached out and gently tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. It was the closest any man who wasn’t a relative had ever come to her. His fingers lingered on the shell of her ear for a moment before withdrawing. “Maybe you’d understand why I come to your games if you came to my games,” he said. 

Her heart was thudding so hard in her chest that she was sure he must be able to hear it, like a drum banging out in the coffee shop. She couldn’t work out what to do with her body, her twitching fingers as they hovered in the air near her ear. She wanted to jump up and run out of the building at the same time that she wanted to slither underneath the table and expire. 

This really was some kind of joke, she thought. It had to be; there could be no other explanation. He was playing some kind of joke on her. 

Except. 

Except she had seen the sincerity in his eyes, the honest appeal for her to come and watch him play. She had felt how gentle his touch was, like she wasn’t close to 6ft tall, like she was the kind of girl who needed to be touched gently. And she had seen the way, just for a moment, his eyes had darted down to her mouth just before he spoke. 

Her chest heaving, she looked up. He was studying again, and paying her no mind. Hakyeon was watching her, eyes wide in meaningful shock. _See_ , she mouthed. _He likes you_. 

Inside Taekwoon’s head, a klaxon blared: _what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck_ —

——

Wonshik was so nervous that he arrived at the movie theatre fifteen minutes early. That gave him fifteen minutes to stand outside the front doors, hands stuffed into his pockets, trying to ignore the curious looks he was getting, and squashing the feeling that he was about to get stood up. 

It was unlikely, he reasoned, mainly because he saw Hongbin every day and that would make physics class even more awkward than it already was. 

A blue SUV pulled up in front of the theatre, and Hongbin jumped out, waving goodbye to whoever had dropped her off. She shut the door, smoothed down the front of the cream, collared blouse she wore, and spotted him. She smiled; there was nothing shy about it, which was oddly reassuring. 

“Hi,” she said, hitching the strap of her purse up her shoulder. 

“Hey,” he said. He forced his voice to be light and cheerful, and mostly managed it. “Did you figure out what movie you wanted to see?” 

She scanned the movie list above the ticket registers. She made a considering noise under her breath and then said, “Don’t Breathe.” 

Wonshik fought down his first instinct, which was to wince, and then his second, which was to comment on a pretty girl wanting to see a movie in which people were violently murdered by ghosts. “Sure,” he said, and stepped forward gamely to buy the tickets. 

“I’m sorry,” said the woman behind the counter. “That movie’s sold out.” 

That was so surprising that Wonshik blinked at her a couple of times before he turned to Hongbin and blinked at her. “It’s sold out,” he said. 

“I heard,” said Hongbin. 

“What else do you want to see?” 

Hongbin looked through the list of movies again. Tentatively, Wonshik named the artsy movie that he didn’t particularly want to see. Hongbin pulled a face. “Be real,” she said. “I want to watch a movie to be entertained, not to want to rip my own eyeballs out. How about Secret Life of Pets?” 

That, too, was also sold out. Wonshik looked helplessly at Hongbin, feeling like this date was crashing down around his ears. He should have pre-bought the tickets, he should have texted her in advance and figured out what they were going to see and then ordered the tickets online, so that then they could see the movie she actually wanted to see. Sure, he’d have to sit through two hours of something that would give him nightmares for a week, but at least Hongbin could be happy. 

“Fine,” Hongbin said. “Let’s go see that dumb Nicholas Sparks movie.” 

Wonshik bought the movie tickets, and then paid for the popcorn they agreed to share before Hongbin could get any money out of her wallet. She glowered at him, and he stuck his tongue out at her, which made her laugh. Although the movie was not sold out, it was still busy inside, and the woman next to Wonshik stole his arm rest. That was his excuse, at least, for leaning closer to Hongbin. 

Their hands kept brushing when they reached for the popcorn. Wonshik looked ahead and pretended not to notice. 

Wonshik didn’t know what to expect from the movie, although he knew enough to know that it wasn’t his usual cup of tea. He liked movies enough that it wasn’t usually a problem, but this one seemed to be singularly terrible. He didn’t know if the acting or the storyline was the worst, although the endless shots in soft focus of a sunrise over a lake merited a special mention too. Wonshik was almost fascinated by how terrible it was.

He noticed, in the periphery of his vision, Hongbin’s head swivel towards him a couple of times. About halfway through, after a particularly overwrought love confession, he turned to her, and their eyes met for a second. She raised her eyebrows, eyes wide as if to say, _can you believe this shit_. Wonshik couldn’t help it; he began to laugh, one hand over his mouth to stop anything more than a slight snigger from escaping. 

“Excuse me,” hissed the woman who had stolen his armrest. “You’re ruining the movie.” 

Hongbin started to laugh too. 

After it was all over and they were walking out of the theatre — and after the woman had stalked away, glaring at Wonshik the entire time — Hongbin said cheerfully, “Well, that was bad.” 

“Excruciating,” said Wonshik. He felt sulky and annoyed. He had not meant to bring her to a bad movie and yet had somehow managed it all the same. 

“Let’s go get food and talk about how terrible it was,” Hongbin said. 

“Oh,” said Wonshik, spirits immediately lifting. 

It was like being on an emotional rollercoaster, he reflected, as they ate in a nearby Mexican restaurant. Hongbin was not the most outwardly expressive girl he’d ever met, and he’d known this from the very beginning. She was, at least, giving him more than Jung Taekwoon ever gave Sanghyuk, but she was still difficult to figure out. She did not flirt like other girls. Her outfit was more casual than he might have expected. She acted no differently on a date than she did whenever they talked in class. 

But at the same time, she laughed at things he said, things that he meant to be funny, and everything about her suggested that she was happy being here, with him. He didn’t feel the need to show off to keep her attention, and although the atmosphere was casual, that was not, he admitted, a bad thing. There was a lack of pressure that was rather nice. 

When he tried to pay for dinner, however, she put a hand on his arm and said, “Wonshik.” 

He blinked at her. “What?” 

“You bought the movie tickets,” she said. “And the popcorn. We go to the same high school, you idiot, the gender pay gap hasn’t even kicked in yet.” 

He pursed his lips at her. She stole the bill right out of his hands and set about counting out money and a tip. He let her do it for a few moments. “Does that mean I can pay for our dates when we’re both making money?” he asked. 

She snorted. “I’m going to be a professional photographer, I’m never going to make money.” 

She didn’t deny that there would be further dates, which kept him smiling as they walked towards his car. The night was cool, and made colder by the breeze which played through the parking lot. She asked about his other classes and he told her that he’d finished _The Great Gatsby_ , which he had liked, and started on _To Kill a Mockingbird_ , which was surprising him in ways he hadn’t expected. 

“You like reading,” she said, less of a question than a statement. 

“I like a lot of things,” he said. “I’m not just a dumb jock.” 

She smiled. “I never said you were.” She huffed under her breath as the wind blew her hair around her face and he watched as she set about fixing it and making it lay back down. When she looked back at him, he realised that he’d been staring again, and had once more been caught at it. 

“You really don’t mean anything by it, do you?” she asked.

“By what?”

“The staring.” 

“What could I mean by it?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. It confused me. I don’t really see why you do it.” 

“Because you’re beautiful. That’s all.”

She went a little pink but didn’t deny or otherwise respond to the compliment. If anything, it looked like it confused her, but she didn’t ask for clarification. She simply kept walking. 

They were near his car now, sitting by itself, looking old and beaten up. He darted forward to pull open the passenger door for her — which made her roll her eyes — and then stopped. She stopped too, looking at him with her head tipped to the side. “What?” 

He put his hand against her waist and pulled her in so that he could kiss her. It took all his scraps of confidence to do it, but it was not a soft kiss; it was a kiss he really meant. The way she melted against him, her hands first touching his waist and then snaking up to his shoulders. One arm went around his neck, holding him closer. 

He turned them so that she rested against the car door, a flat surface that he could use to lean into her even further, and let his eyes flutter shut. Her legs opened just a little but he kept their hips apart, feeling removed from the usual pulse of sexual desire he felt when kissing a girl. He could not deny how painfully erotic it was, the way she yielded up to him, her small hands playing with strands of his hair, but he did not want anything more than her mouth on his, and the warmth of her body bleeding into him. 

He broke the kiss, lifting his head away to catch his breath. Her chest moved rapidly against his. “Okay?” he asked, needing to know. 

“Oh my god,” she snapped, and reeled him back in. 

She was late home for curfew, a fact she told him the next day at school. “You never told me you had a curfew,” he said, mystified and guilty even though it wasn’t his fault. 

“You wouldn’t have stopped kissing me,” she said, and grinned so wickedly that he had to kiss her again. 

——

The Wednesday night basketball game was against Mercy High School and their green and maroon uniforms were a stark contrast to the white, yellow, and blue uniforms of Taekwoon’s school. She climbed the bleachers in the auditorium, wishing she had Hakyeon or even Jaehwan at her side, but they’d both been busy after school and had called off. Taekwoon suspected part of it was so that she’d be forced to go by herself. 

She took a seat in a row near the back. It still felt too close; she could see Sanghyuk warming up, laughing at something Wonshik had said to him. His legs looked remarkably skinny in his basketball shorts, which made her laugh to herself, but his shoulders were broad under his shirt. She kept her eyes off those. 

Taekwoon tried to make herself as small as possible in the corner of the bleachers, but that had never been something she was good at, so after a moment or two Wonshik noticed and pointed towards her. Sanghyuk turned, his head whipping in her direction. The smile that broke out over his face when he saw her sitting there made her chest ache. He lifted a hand and waved it over his head, the movement larger than it needed to be. 

A few people turned to see who he was waving to. She tucked herself more firmly into the corner but raised her own hand after a moment and waved back, the motion barely there. His smile, impossibly, grew larger. He said something to Wonshik without taking his eyes off her and then waved again, a mimicry of her small motion. 

She hunched down in her seat, looking away from him to watch the other team warm up. She knew she should probably cheer for him, give him something to show her support, but outside of the soccer pitch, she couldn’t do that. She could scream herself hoarse supporting her teammates; cheering elsewhere made her want to die inside. 

He didn’t seem like he was offended or upset though. When he stepped onto the court to start the game, his attention didn’t seem to be on her at all. He looked focused and intense, and once the game started, his movements were sharp, measured; she knew enough about basketball to know that he was good. She didn’t need the screams of the girls in the first few rows to clue her into that. 

She remembered what he’d said in those quiet moments in the coffee shop: that maybe she’d understand why he came to her games, if she came to his. She wasn’t sure about that, but if this was how she looked when she played, then it made a little more sense. It wasn’t pretty, necessarily, no one looked good sprinting around a court in basketball shorts, sweat dripping in obvious trails down their face, but pretty wasn’t the point. It was about the physicality of it, how solid and strong his body looked. How sure every movement was, how he crashed into his opponent in a play for the ball. 

But it was different, she told herself. It was expected that guys would be vicious and aggressive when they played. There’s no way he could have seen those same things in her — because she know how she played, where winning was everything and she’d do whatever it took to do it — and thought they were attractive. 

She’d spoken to Jaehwan, once, about how she knew she liked girls instead of liking guys. Jaehwan had spoken about how girls made her feel, the way she wanted to touch them, how much she liked to look at them, but she’d also spoken about how guys didn’t make her feel, how every time she looked at them, something felt like it was missing. That the idea of kissing them made her feel empty, the thought of touching them uncomfortable. 

“Why do you ask?” Jaehwan had asked, popping her gum. 

Taekwoon wanted to tell her about how in Spanish, a guy had asked her if it was true, that she was a lesbian; that for years, since middle school, people had told her that she was never going to get a boyfriend if she didn’t dress nicer or wear make up; that the thought of a guy liking her didn’t make her uncomfortable, but instead felt foreign to her, and yet she still craved it. 

“That’s not how I feel,” she’d said. 

“Of course it’s not,” Jaehwan had said, bewildered. “Why would you feel like that?” 

By the time the halftime break came around, her body was hot in a way that her mind was shying away from. She’d gone seventeen years without acknowledging attraction to someone, purposely denying it for self-preservation, and now she was being smacked in the face with it. She didn’t know how to process this. Her mind kept replaying the way his biceps had shifted when he’d shoved his sweaty hair away from his face as the whistle blew.

She was still sitting there, staring blankly into space, when she felt someone sit down in the seat next to her. She glanced across, ready to be annoyed, and almost fell off her seat. Sanghyuk grinned at her, mopping at his face with a towel. “Hey,” he said. “You came!” 

She stared at him, unable to form words for a minute. He seemed happy to wait her out. Perhaps he was learning. “You’re going to get the seat sweaty,” she said. 

“I don’t care,” he said cheerfully. “What did you think? I’m good, right?” 

A quick glance at the scoreboard showed that his side was losing. She pointed at it. He followed the line of her arm and squinted at the board hanging in the middle of the court and then laughed. “Fine,” he said. “But I’m still good, aren’t I?” 

“You’re okay,” she said. His eyes crinkled as he grinned. “You guys are sloppy on the defense though.” 

“You should tell coach that,” he said. “He keeps putting Jason on the first line but he’s useless.” 

“Mmm.” She shifted in her seat so that she wasn’t so squished into the corner, but that brought them closer on the narrow seats so that her arm brushed against his. It should have been gross because he was sweaty, and it was, a bit, but it wasn’t at the same time. “He keeps letting people get through.” 

He looked pleased. “That’s what I always tell Wonshik.” 

“I—” She paused, trying to get her words together. He leaned back in his seat and scrubbed at his face with a towel. It made his hair stick up. He seemed perfectly willing to wait her out, but not in the way some people did, like it was a challenge. He’d been in enough conversations with her by now to not take the silences personally. “Why did you come up here?” 

“I wanted to talk to you.” He laid the towel over his lap, tilting his head in her direction. “I wanted to say thank you for coming to my game.” 

“You asked me to.” 

“That doesn’t mean you had to. In fact, I kind of expected you wouldn’t. You didn’t seem that interested.” 

She shrugged a little. “I like sports.” 

“So I’ve gathered.” 

The time was ticking away; she didn’t know exactly how much time they had left before he got called back out to play. He probably wasn’t even supposed to be up here. “You said that maybe I’d understand if I came to your game. Why you come to my games.” 

“Yeah,” he said, glancing across at her. “Do you?” 

“Not really. The way I play isn’t pretty, it’s not... attractive.” The _like you_ went unspoken and, she hoped, unheard. 

He frowned. “Who says what is and isn’t attractive? I like the way you play. You’re there to win and you hold nothing back. A girl doesn’t have to be dainty or pretty or weak to be attractive.” 

“Doesn’t she?” she asked. “Have to be pretty, at least, I mean?” 

He leaned his shoulder against hers for a moment and then pulled away. “Who decides who is pretty and who isn’t?” 

She scowled at him. “Everyone knows what is pretty and what isn’t, don’t play around.” 

“Really? Then who do you think is pretty?” 

“Hakyeon is pretty,” she said. “So is Ilhoon. They’re pretty and so boys like them.” 

“Are they pretty so boys like them,” he said, “or is it because boys like them, they must be pretty?” 

She squinted at him. “You’re confusing me.” 

“Good. What does it make you, then, if a boy likes you?” 

“Boys don’t like me,” she said automatically. 

He made a loud buzzer noise that drew the attention of a couple sitting a couple of rows in front. “Wrong. Inaccurate statement. Please try again.” 

Her head was spinning, but she couldn’t help it; she smiled, amused despite herself. She heard him make a soft, surprised noise. When she glanced across at him, he was staring at her, his mouth hanging open just a little. It was gratifying to see that he was as surprised as she was that he’d made her smile. 

“Boys like you,” he said quietly, his voice low. 

“Yeah?” Her heart was pounding, she could feel the heat on her cheeks, but she made herself say it. “Name one.” 

He swallowed. She thought he was going to say it — she wasn’t sure what _it_ was, but he was going to say it — and then someone yelled his name. “Han, get your ass back down here!” the coach screamed from the bench. “You’ve got a game to play!” 

He shot to his feet so hard that he almost toppled over. “I’m coming,” he called, but turned back to Taekwoon before he moved. “I’ll see you after the game? We should talk.” 

She didn’t react or respond but he jogged away anyway, taking the stairs down to the court two or three at a time. He sat on the bench next to Wonshik, listened to the coach yell something at him, and then, when the coach wandered away, he said something to Wonshik that had Wonshik patting him on the shoulder. 

Taekwoon waited until the game started, until he was focused on his playing, before she gathered her things up and climbed down the bleachers so she could leave unseen. She told herself that she’d get his phone number from Jaehwan and text him to explain, even as she acknowledged how unlikely that would be. But still, he knew where to find her, and she needed to be away from his shoulders and legs and the replay of his low voice before she ended up hyperventilating in her seat. 

The walk to her car in the cool mid-fall air calmed her a little; the breeze played over the bare skin of her arms, bringing goosebumps to the surface. She shivered. She preferred winter, in some ways, because the cold brought her out of her head easier, brought herself back to a baseline in a sharp slap. Jaehwan always complained in winter but that was because she hated wearing normal clothes and had the body fat content of a chihuahua. 

She climbed into her car and turned the air conditioning on to keep the coolness playing over her skin and pulled out of the parking lot. She kept her focus on the road, pushing everything to the back of her mind. It wasn’t important, none of it. She couldn’t let herself be distracted by the way his mouth had looked, half-open, how warm his skin had been when he’d leaned his shoulder against hers for a moment. 

When she stopped the car, she was surprised to find herself in front of Hakyeon’s house rather than her own, which was where she’d meant to go. She didn’t even know what she would say to Hakyeon to explain. Hakyeon would be excited, which wasn’t quite how Taekwoon would describe herself. She felt ashamed, in some ways, at letting herself be so taken in by how close he had been, how his body language seemed to speak of interest, the way she had _flirted_ with him. Outside of the strange quiet of the conversation, it felt excruciating to remember. 

She let herself into Hakyeon’s house. She’d stopped needing to knock two years earlier, but she still called out that it was her. Hakyeon’s mom poked her head out of the kitchen and blinked at her. “Taekwoon, dear, are you okay?” 

Did she look that freaked out? “I’m fine. Is Hakyeon home?” 

“Yes, she’s in her room, she’s studying with Jaehwan.” 

Taekwoon blinked at her, then at the stairs. They hadn’t told her that they’d be studying today; in fact, they’d made it sound like they weren’t going to be together at all. Hakyeon had to go home to help her mom with something, which was usual and Taekwoon never asked much about it out of fear that Hakyeon would drag her along, but Jaehwan had said something about babysitting her cousin. 

She climbed the stairs but didn’t bother to knock on Hakyeon’s bedroom door, another habit. She merely pushed it open, mouth opening to ask why they were studying without her. The words died immediately. She took in the picture on the bed: Hakyeon hovering over Jaehwan, their mouths together, Jaehwan’s hand threaded through Hakyeon’s hair as Hakyeon’s hand disappeared underneath the hem of Jaehwan’s half-buttoned shirt. 

Then they wrenched apart and looked at her, horrified. “Taekwoon?” squeaked Hakyeon. 

Taekwoon turned and fled, ignoring the cries of her name from behind her from Hakyeon, the curious call from Hakyeon’s mom. It would take them a moment to get their clothes done back up so she took the chance to run back to her car, start it and leave before they could came out of the house. A hysterical laugh bubbled up in her throat that she swallowed on a sob. They were— she— _what_? 

When she eventually got home, miraculously dry-eyed, breathing calmed, she had three missed calls and five text messages from Hakyeon, and another three from Jaehwan. Her mom looked even more worried than Hakyeon’s mother had. “Taekwoon, Hakyeon’s been calling. She sounded upset, she wanted you to call her back.” 

Taekwoon couldn’t, not until she’d had the time to sort through everything in her head, get this messed up day into alignment. She shook her head silently. 

Her mom, who didn’t get her in a general sense but who understood her idiosyncrasies all the same, said, “You two haven’t had a fight, have you?” 

Taekwoon shook her head again. They hadn’t, after all; she’d run out too quickly for that. It took her a moment to speak and when she did, her voice caught. “If she calls back, can you tell her I’m not angry? But that we’ll talk tomorrow.” 

“Of course.” Her mom smoothed a hand over Taekwoon’s hair and Taekwoon leaned into it. Her mom sighed. “We should get you a haircut, you know. I keep saying you’d look pretty with bangs.” 

Taekwoon pushed away from her and stormed up the stairs. She made sure to slam her bedroom door for further emphasis. 

——

Jaehwan and Hakyeon were waiting for her outside her locker the next day before school, Jaehwan yawning behind her hand. She wasn’t a morning person either and clearly they had been there a while to make sure they didn’t miss her. Her droopiness wasn’t unusual per se. What was unusual was that Hakyeon didn’t look bright and perky like she always did in the mornings; she was wearing jeans, and her hair was pulled back with a tie. The last time Taekwoon had seen her wear this look, her grandmother had gone into hospital with a broken hip. 

Taekwoon squinted at them. Jaehwan, huddled in her sheepskin lined denim jacket, shifted away so that she could get to her locker. “Can we talk?” Hakyeon asked, already sounding wobbly and wet. 

Taekwoon, who had never met a conversation that she wanted to be part of, stuck her head into her locker and spoke from in there. “Do we have to?” 

“We wanted to explain,” Hakyeon said, “and just, say sorry, for not telling you, we didn’t mean to—” 

Taekwoon removed her head from her locker and sighed. “I’m not mad,” she said softly, which made Hakyeon slam her mouth shut, and Jaehwan’s eyebrows rise. “I mean, I guess— you guys could have told me, you know? I’m not— it doesn’t upset me.” 

They glanced at each other. “There’s not really that much to tell,” said Jaehwan. “It’s just sex.” 

Hakyeon smacked her, hard enough that Taekwoon winced. 

“What! We’re not together, we’re not a _couple_.” 

Hakyeon sighed. “Much as it pains me to admit it, she’s right. But we still should have told you. You’re really not mad? You ran out so quickly yesterday.” 

Taekwoon stared at her. “Of course I ran out quickly, you had your hand up Jaehwan’s shirt.” 

Hakyeon flinched. Jaehwan asked, “you mean you didn’t want to see my wonderful nipples?” 

“No,” said Taekwoon. “No, I did not.” 

“You wound me.” 

“I just— I can’t believe you two are—” 

“Believe me,” said Hakyeon with a long-suffering sigh. “I am as surprised as you are.” 

Jaehwan grinned and slid her hand around Taekwoon’s elbow. “Now that’s all done and dusted, are you going to tell us what happened yesterday at the basketball game?” 

“What makes you think anything happened?” 

“The fact that you came to Hakyeon’s house before the game had even ended?” Jaehwan snapped her fingers in front of her face. “Come on, spill.” 

In fits and starts, in a quiet undertone that both Jaehwan and Hakyeon had to lean in to hear, Taekwoon told them everything that had happened at the game. Well, almost everything; she missed out some of the finer details of how it had made her feel to watch him play. She wasn’t like Jaehwan, she couldn’t overshare everything. 

She said enough that both of them understood what she was missing out, and when she got to their conversation on the bleachers, they exchanged looks. “Oh my god,” said Hakyeon in a rush. “He flirted with you and _you flirted back_.” 

Taekwoon pressed her face against the door of her locker, trying to cool her hot face down. “Don’t remind me.” 

“This is fascinating,” said Jaehwan. “I never thought this would happen.” 

Taekwoon titled her head so she could glare at Jaehwan out of the corner of her eye. “What, that a guy would— flirt with me?” 

“No,” said Jaehwan scornfully. “That you’d flirt back with Sanghyuk. He peed in my inflatable pool when he was four. I’ve never forgiven or forgotten.” 

Taekwoon pressed her lips together to keep herself from laughing. Hakyeon didn’t even bother. “What happened after that?” she asked. “You did leave the game early.” 

“I. um.” She hunched her shoulders in anticipation. “He said he’d see me after the game but I was so freaked out I left.” 

“Oh,” said Jaehwan. “I wondered.” 

“Why?” 

“Well, he came to my house last night,” she said carefully. “He asked for your phone number. He seemed kind of— upset, I guess. But I told him I was busy, because I was freaking out about you too, and shut the door in his face.” 

“You’re going to talk to him, right?” Hakyeon asked, sounding as distraught by the thought of Sanghyuk being upset as Taekwoon had expected. “He must have been so sad when you just left!” 

“Talking isn’t exactly what I was thinking,” Taekwoon muttered. Jaehwan waggled her eyebrows. Taekwoon glared at her. “That’s not what I meant.” 

“You can’t just ignore him,” Hakyeon said. 

“Watch me,” said Taekwoon. 

She managed up until lunch, which sounded impressive until their widely different class schedules were taken into account. When she turned into the hallway where her locker was, he was leaning up against it, one foot propped up against the row of lockers. His arms were folded across his chest. She would have run away but he’d already seen her— actually she would have run anyway, but she needed her calculus textbook. 

He moved when she got closer, shuffling to the side so she could get into her locker, but he didn’t leave. He looked mad when she glanced at him so she didn’t look at him any more. “Taekwoon,” he said. 

She hunched her shoulders. She wanted to reply to him but found that she couldn’t; she opened her mouth and then shut it again. 

“You left last night,” he said. “I thought maybe you’d just gone to the bathroom but then you didn’t come back.” She stared into her locker, eyes half-closed. “Taekwoon, could you at least look at me.” 

It took her a moment but she managed it. He looked frustrated; he’d clearly pushed a hand through his hair while he was talking and now it stood up in places. This was why she hadn’t wanted to get her hopes up. Nothing had even started and she’d already blown it. She knew she would. 

“Why did you leave?” he asked. 

How to explain the tangle of emotions inside her, the way fear and anxiety had created a mess of nonsense inside her that she couldn’t articulate, could only run from. “I don’t know,” she said. 

His brow crumpled. “I was really upset,” he said. 

Her chest hitched. “I’m sorry.” 

He watched her for a moment, mouth moving like he was chewing the inside of it. Then he said, with a note of resigned finality, “Do you like me? Or do you hate me?” 

She gaped at him. Her face felt so hot that she suspected she could fry an egg on it. His eyes stayed on her face, waiting for an answer, drilling into her with an intensity that made her anxiety rise up in her like a tidal wave. She looked away from his eyes, at his jaw, which was painful too, then his arms, then down to the floor, which felt safe and neutral. 

“Well?” he asked, voice demanding. 

She put her shoulder against the row of lockers and planted her feet on the floor. “I… I don’t _not_... like you.” 

She felt proud of herself for getting the words out, but when she risked a glance up at his face, he was frowning, confused. She set her eyes on him for a minute, waiting until he looked back at her and their eyes met. She forced herself to hold his gaze for a moment and then looked back at the floor. 

“I’m— okay.” The first bell for the end of lunch rang over their heads. “Okay,” he repeated. She closed her locker. He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Okay,” he said for the third time. Then he turned around and strode away, the line of his spine tense. 

She took a few deep breaths. Then she walked to class. She’d blown it, she knew, but it was going to be fine. There hadn’t been anything to blow, after all. 

——

“Hello?” 

“Hakyeon? It’s me, Sanghyuk.” 

“...”

“Hakyeon?” 

“...How the hell did you get my number?” 

“Jaehwan gave it to me.” 

“Oh my god. She owes me like fifty— never mind. What is it?” 

“I wanted to talk about Taekwoon?” 

“And why can’t you talk _to_ Taekwoon?” 

“I tried that, at lunch. It didn’t work out. And Jaehwan wouldn’t give me Taekwoon’s number. She said I’d have to work for it and I didn’t trust what she’d make me do.”

“You’re smarter than I realised— wait, you spoke to Taekwoon today? She never told me.” 

“Yeah, we uh. I wanted to know why she left last night. She said she didn’t know? And when I asked if she liked me or disliked me, she said she didn’t not like me. Like, what the crap am I supposed to even do with that.” 

“That is major progress.” 

“Are you being sarcastic?” 

“Of course not. Do you even realise how difficult it is to get Taekwoon to confess to basic human emotions? If you asked her, she might not even be able to admit to liking me out loud, and we’ve been best friends for years.” 

“You’re kidding me. How am I supposed to— what am I supposed to do here?” 

“Do you want to date her?” 

“Yes.” 

“Then ask her out, and get used to interpreting her emotions.” 

“Ask her out? Don’t you think she’ll say no?” 

“Text her, I’ll give you her number. Don’t ask her to say yes out loud and she’s more likely to say yes. But until she has more of a commitment from you, she’s not going to open up anymore than she already has done.” 

“...She’s a hard person to know, isn’t she?” 

“Yes. But I think you’re already learning that it’s worth it.” 

——

Taekwoon said yes. 

She said yes to Sanghyuk’s request to meet up at the weekend, after she’d yelled at Hakyeon over Facebook messenger for giving him her number. He’d used the word date, which she tried to not think too hard about. People used date for things all the time without meaning _date_. As a result she’d spent a full day trying to work out what to wear, but had refused to let Hakyeon or Jaehwan come over to help her get ready. They would have brought their whole collection of make-up with them and made her into someone she wasn’t. 

She tugged on the hem of the sweater she’d settled on, a grey knitted one that looked good, but was soft and flopped over her wrists and hands like she liked and found comforting. She’d tried on the skinniest pair of jeans she owned, spent half an hour looking in the mirror at her legs, then switched them for the next skinniest. With her black combat boots and a purse she’d stolen from Hakyeon’s room at their impromptu meeting on Friday night (“Taekwoon has a date, we need to talk strategy” “Hakyeon it’s not _really_ a date”), she’d thought she looked passable, if not fancy. 

Judging by the surprised but pleased way her mom’s eyebrows had risen when she’d seen her before leaving the house, it was a good look. 

She tried not to think about that, in the same way she was trying not to think about whether she should get bangs, and how all the pinterest pages for “park picnic” had shown pretty girls in dresses. It was too late to worry about any of it, although it was still there, in the back of her mind, niggling. 

Sanghyuk arrived just at the moment that she began to fear he wouldn’t turn up at all, walking forwards her with a pleased smile. “You came!” he said, in the same way he’d done at the basketball game, like her showing was a genuine surprise. 

She made a noise of acknowledgement. He looked nicer than he did at school, like he too had made some sort of an effort, which was kind of nice to know. His black jeans looked about as tight as hers, and he wore a red-and-black checkered shirt with a black leather jacket that she suspected she’d once eyed up in a store. 

“You look nice,” he said. “I like your hair.” 

She touched her hair, done in a french braid, the only fancy thing she knew how to do with her hair. “Um. Thanks. I like your jacket.” By which she meant she wanted his jacket but that might have been weird to say. 

Not that this wasn’t already weird. The confusion of the situation was tying her tongue up again. It felt bizarre, to be out like this with Han Sanghyuk, to be listening to compliments and trying to accept them without rejection. He didn’t seem to notice it. He just smiled and said, “Walk with me? We can get ice cream.” 

She nodded and fell into stop with him as he started down the path through the park. She’d been here a couple of times, but it was closer to Jaehwan’s house, and therefore Sanghyuk’s, than it was to her own. It was large enough to hold a skateboarding rink and a small lake with rowboats that could be rented by the hour. Even though the weather was a little cold, there were still plenty of people around, families with their children playing on the swings, teenagers skating, one or two boats out on the water. 

She didn’t know what to say, so she didn’t say anything until they reached the stall which sold ice cream and soda and bottles of water. She asked for vanilla and was handed a cone which Sanghyuk paid for before she could even dig her wallet out of her purse. She looked at him hard but he affected not to notice as he handed the money over to the amused looking cashier at the stall. 

“I used to go skateboarding all the time when I was younger,” he said, turning away in the direction of the skateboarding area. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. “Why aren’t you eating? It’ll melt.” 

She licked at it obediently, even as she narrowed her eyes at him. He smiled winningly. There was a silence, in which he continued walking and she followed, before he said, “I used to be quite good at it.” Another pause. “Skateboarding, I mean.” 

Taekwoon could see it. He was a little too tall for it now, she imagined, puberty would have messed up that particular balance equilibrium, but he had the same approach to sports and active things that she did: you worked at it until you were good. It was what Jaehwan hated most. 

“I would come here every weekend with my dad. Before my parents split up, I mean.” He paused again, like he was waiting for something. She didn’t know what so she stayed silent again. “He moved to Los Angeles after that, but it’s okay. I see him during the summer, and my step-dad is cool.” 

It took her a moment but she said, “Your mom is pregnant?” 

“Yeah,” he said. He sounded bolstered and she didn’t know why. “I’m going to have a baby brother pretty soon.” 

She nodded. Even though he was talking so much, he’d finished his ice cream and tossed the napkin that had been wrapped around the cone into the trash. She was still finishing hers up when he said, into the quiet, “You want to go on the row boats?” 

He sounded frustrated again, like he had done the day in school by her locker. She glanced across at him and found him watching her with a frown, jaw pinched tight. If going on the row boats would take that away, she’d go on the row boats. She nodded and he relaxed a little, but not enough. 

The man who ran the boats was a small man with a cap which looked like it hadn’t been washed in thirty years. Sanghyuk seemed kind of fascinated by him and Taekwoon tried not to look at him as they climbed into one of the small rowing boats around the edge of the lake. Even though she was perfectly capable of rowing, and kind of wanted to, Sanghyuk sat in that position and took the rows. It was the kind of chivalrous gesture she’d always wanted a guy to use on her but now that he had it didn’t really make her feel much. 

She should have suspected something was up when he rowed them straight into the middle of the lake and then pulled the oars into the boat. The realisation that she was trapped on a boat with him came upon her like she imagined the knowledge of certain death came upon a person in a horror movie. 

“Okay,” Sanghyuk said. “Now we can talk.” 

In desperation she grabbed one of the oars and stuck it out of the boat and tried to paddle for shore. Sanghyuk grabbed the other one and immediately started paddling in the opposite direction, so that they just went around in circles for a few moments. 

“Taekwoon,” he said, sounding equal parts like he wanted to laugh and cry, “stop it. This is a date. We need to talk.” 

She dropped the oar back into the boat with a thud. He did the same, calmly, though he watched her warily. She eyed the water for a moment. It had taken her a long time to decide on her outfit and she wasn’t sure she wanted to ruin it by going for a swim, but desperate times—

Sanghyuk seemed to realise where her thoughts were going and he lunged across the boat with his hands gripping the edges. “Taekwoon,” he said. “Don’t— don’t throw yourself out— Christ. I just want to talk. Is that really so horrifying?” 

Taekwoon swallowed. “Yes,” she whispered. 

He pressed his lips together for a moment. “Is it me?” he asked softly. She shook her head in a barely there motion. “What is it then?” 

She forced the words out of her mouth. “You might ask me something I don’t know how to answer.” 

“If you can’t answer then just tell me,” he said. “I’m not going to force you to do something you don’t want to do.” 

She looked around them pointedly. “You kidnapped me,” she hissed. 

He smiled. “This isn’t kidnapping. I just thought this way you couldn’t run away from it like you have every other time. I should have expected you’d think of a way.” 

“I don’t know what you want to talk about,” she said. “I might say something wrong.” 

He reached across and laid his hand across hers. “I want to talk about us,” he said. “You can’t say anything wrong.” 

“Us,” she repeated flatly. She edged her hand away.

“Yes, us. The two of us.” He motioned between them. “Me and you.” 

She scowled. “I knew what you meant.” 

“Did you? Sometimes I don’t think you know what I’m trying to say at all.” 

“I’m not stupid,” she said, stung. 

“No, Taekwoon—” Carefully, he moved forward on the boat until he was sitting right opposite her, their knees banging together. There wasn’t enough space, but that seemed to be the point. Everywhere she looked, she could see him. She looked down instead. “That wasn’t what I meant. It just feels like sometimes you’re willfully misunderstanding me or thinking the worst of me. And I don’t know why.” 

“It’s—” She wet her lips, taking a moment. “It’s not personal.” 

“What is it, then?” 

She looked up at him. The boat had turned gently on the water until the sun lit his face from the side, so that half of it was washed out bright and the other was in shadows. She met his eyes for a moment and then looked away again, only for her gaze to be arrested by the way he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, a nervous gesture that her brain got stuck on. She looked away again quickly but she heard him exhale as she did so. The sound had a curious note to it. 

“Taekwoon,” he said. His hand landed on her knee and even though he didn’t move quickly, she still felt stuck in place as he leaned across the space between them and kissed the corner of her mouth, as close as he could get at that angle. Then he pulled away and looked at her anxiously. 

After a moment he seized hold of her wrist. “Don’t jump,” he said. 

It was probably just as well, she reflected. She really had been about to do just that. 

Her breath came in hard won splutters, her chest rising and falling erratically. She stared at him unable to believe what had just happened. She was blushing, she knew, but for once it felt almost like an afterthought, irrelevant compared to the bigger problem at hand. When she found her voice, it squeaked. “Take me back!” 

“Taekwoon—”

“Please!” 

He was quiet as he put the oars back out and rowed them back to the shore. The man in the dirty hat seemed surprised to see them so quickly, but Taekwoon clambered out before he could say anything about it. Sanghyuk followed her, saying something to the man that she didn’t hear; she was already walking away up the hill that led down to the lake. 

“Fuck,” she whispered. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—” The klaxon was back, drowning out all other thought. She could hear Sanghyuk’s footsteps behind her, but he didn’t catch up to her until they were at the top of the hill, looking down on the swing set on one side, the lake where he had _kissed her_ on the other. 

“Taekwoon?” Sanghyuk asked quietly. She whirled on him. He had his hands in his pocket and scuffed the toe of his sneaker into the dirt. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have— I just thought—” He fell silent again. 

“Wait,” she said. “Just let me.” She walked in a little circle, trying to get her thoughts in a line. Then she said, after a moment of unsure hesitation, “Do you… really _like_ me?” 

He stared at her. Then it exploded out of him: “Oh my god. Oh my god, Taekwoon. Yes! I like you! We’re on a date! Why did you think I’d asked you out?” 

“I don’t know,” she said. “I didn’t know if it was really a date.” 

“I’m going to throw myself into the lake.” 

“It’s just—” She shook her head, dislodging strands of hair from the braid. “Guys don’t like me, they don’t want to take me on dates, they certainly don’t want to— what you did.” 

“Kiss you?” He shook his head in despair. “Well this boy wants to do all those things, very much. If I kiss you again, do you promise not to freak out?” 

Even just hearing about it freaked her out. “I’ve never—” She couldn’t say it. 

“You’ve never been kissed?” He didn’t sound surprised, which was equal parts reassuring and offensive.

“I might explode,” she told him, matter-of-factly. 

He smiled. “I’m not that good.” 

She stared at him. He took her wrist, which made her start, and then tugged her gently to the nearest cluster of trees, out of the line of sight of both the lake and the children playing. “Come here,” he said. “Come _here_ , just, god, just come here.” 

She went; it was impossible not to, as his hands pulled her closer to his body, one against her waist, the other moving from her wrist to her shoulder to her jaw, like he couldn’t figure out what to do with it, until it came to a rest on her cheek, his thumb brushing softly against her cheekbone. Her own arms hung at her sides. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. She had been right; she was going to explode. 

When he kissed her, it was soft and close-mouthed, barely more than a brush of lips. Her heart stopped and then stuttered back on. He pressed in again, his touch firmer this time but the intent still soft. She brought a hand up and touched his shoulder. She meant to hold him there but before she could do that, he pulled away. 

“What?” he asked, looking at her hand. “Did I— do you want me to stop?” 

Very deliberately, Taekwoon wrapped her fingers around the curve of his shoulder, a move that was almost possessive. He looked at it and then back to her face. “Oh,” he said. Then he grinned. “You didn’t explode.” 

“It was a close thing,” she informed him. 

He laughed, the most delighted sound she’d heard out of him thus far. It was kind of stupid, which made her smile. She put her other hand against his chest and spread her fingers against his shirt. When he stepped back in to kiss her again, it got trapped between their bodies, but that was okay. She didn’t really mind. 

——

The Sunday study table had grown quite a bit by the time the end of the semester grew nearer, thanks to Sanghyuk’s addition of Wonshik, and Wonshik’s addition of Hongbin, who Taekwoon liked a lot and whose presence she couldn’t resent, although she questioned her choice in boyfriend sometimes. She never expressed that though because she questioned her own choice sometimes. 

Jaehwan arrived, stomping off the snow that had started falling the night before and still fell in large, soft flakes. She was cursing under her breath as she made her way to the table, Wonshik and Hongbin following in her wake, having spent the morning taking photographs in the park. Wonshik looked frozen through but he dutifully went to the counter and ordered Hongbin’s hot chocolate and his own coffee. 

“I hate the snow,” Jaehwan said, throwing herself sulkily in her seat. “I hate it. I hate cold weather, I hate church, I hate having to wear pantyhose, I hate having to wear jeans.” She stamped her foot to punctuate the sentiment. 

“Hmm,” said Hongbin. She turned and yelled at Wonshik. “Get Jaehwan a hot chocolate too! With marshmallows and whipped cream!” Wonshik saluted her across the room. “Chocolate makes everything better,” she said to Jaehwan. 

“I hate chocolate,” said Jaehwan half-heartedly, shivering.

Sanghyuk, who had been sitting with his shoulder resting against Taekwoon’s chair, leaned in the opposite direction, offering Jaehwan his body heat. She stripped out of her giant coat and practically climbed into his lap. He looked shocked for a moment and then started rubbing her arms to warm her up. “You’re worse than my baby brother,” he said. 

“She’s certainly not as cute that your baby brother,” Taekwoon said. She poked Jaehwan with a finger. “Do that to Hakyeon.” 

“Hard pass,” said Hakyeon, frowning at her laptop through a pair of glasses her mom had made her buy this past week. 

“Stop it,” said Jaehwan. “Leave me alone. I had to sit in a drafty church in a dress all morning while the preacher droned on about the homosexuals. Be kind to me.” 

Wonshik put the cups on the table and took his own seat. He didn’t look overly surprised to see Jaehwan snuggled so close to Sanghyuk. “Want to tag me in?” he asked. “She whined about the cold all the way here.” 

“Yeah, Jaehwan,” said Hongbin, motioning at Wonshik. “He burns hot, you should use him as your furnace.” 

Jaehwan jumped away from Sanghyuk and plastered herself along Wonshik’s side. He put his arm around her shoulders. “Holy shit, you’re right,” said Jaehwan. “This is wonderful.” 

Sanghyuk slid his eyes across to Taekwoon. “You jealous?” 

She stared at him as if to say, _Does that sound like me_? 

He smirked. “I thought so.” He turned back to his geometry homework, which he was struggling with, no matter how often she explained it to him. _It’s not that difficult_ , she’d said, and he’d said, _I’m not smart like you_ , and she’d tried to do his inaccurate buzzer noise at him but he’d kissed her quickly and the noise had died in her throat. 

She looked down at her own homework and let the wave of noise wash over her; the bickering of Jaehwan and Hakyeon, Hongbin’s quiet mutterings to Wonshik, the sound of the coffee machines, and Sanghyuk’s pencil against his paper as he messed up yet another answer to a question that she’d already explained to him and which she’d have to go through all over again.

After a moment, he hooked their ankles together underneath the table. She smiled, and didn’t move away.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a small psa, but we felt it wise to notify those of you who haven't followed us here from livejournal that there are two of us. We collaborate on some of the fics you'll find here but others we write independently. Incarnadine is currently being written primarily by Ela, while this fic was written by Rara. Just to. You know. Explain this particular whiplash.


End file.
